


Erased

by Aurora313



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, F/M, Gen, Time Travel Fix-It, re-write of older fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2018-12-17 07:55:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 51,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11847246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurora313/pseuds/Aurora313
Summary: Time is a fickle thing; it holds power over each and every one of us. So often do we wish we had the opportunity to relive the past and correct mistakes we've made, to ease our regrets about the choices we didn't make. Sometimes fate is just kind enough - or just cruel enough, to grant us that chance. [[Erased 2.0]]





	1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

The City was in flames. The carcass of a township that belonged to Vale's capital city was alight like a raging inferno, rendering the bones of this once grand jewel of humanity into little more than dust when the fires were extinguished.

It, like many other kingdoms, stood as a bold Beacon of salvation, security and stability for humanity. An impregnable fortress and shelter. This was a beautiful and prosperous symbol of hope for all mankind.

Now it lay abandoned, rank with death, despair and ghosts – a dark yet appropriate reflection of what humanity had become now; a worthless pile of rubble and ruin.

The Kingdoms had fallen like leaves before a mighty wind. Grimm ran roughshod through the formerly great fortresses and returned humanity's brief existence to the dust from whence it came. Human life, once as plentiful as the Grimm themselves, was reduced to a few disparate pockets left on the face of Remnant. In good time, even those measly dregs would be utterly eradicated by Salem's children.

Or perhaps they would rise again. Reborn like a phoenix from the ashes with a fresh new perspective of the world like so many of their forefathers did. They would struggle to continue the endless cycle of death and rebirth of empires, destruction and recreation of civilisations that existed since times immemorable.

Ozpin had made sure that every time Humanity rose against the Grimm, Salem's existence and the knowledge of their destruction had been erased from their collective memory, and this dance would begin again. Humanity spurred forward under a web of lies that concealed the world's truth from their eyes. But Salem had killed the last wizard.

It was a shame and a pity. She remembered the helpless look in the poor boy's eyes when confronted with the end. The fear, the confusion and panic – the hopeless realisation that the Wizard's protectors wouldn't reach him in time. Fate was cruel. But the deed had to be done for the world to be freed from the Wizard's arrogance.

With the fall of their last Citadel in the north, once again humanity was reminded harshly of the world's bitter hard truth. And those hard truths would invariably devour them whole. The question remained; would they submit to fate's cruel hand or cry out against it?

Salem couldn't deny her deep satisfaction as she stood on the roof of a commercial building, once part of Vale's central commerce hub. Satisfaction that took the form of a small serene smile spread across her lips. Her hands were clasped in front of her, rested on the pommel of a bone-white sword. It was elegant yet organic in design and as sharp as any steel Humanity could bring to bare against her.

Perched beside her with a head under its wing was a mighty griffon that served as her mount. An ancient griffon that stood at five metres tall when brought to its full height, white bone plates and spikes down its shoulders, spine, face and wings gave a hint to its ancient age. The carapace serving both as layered armour and as a place to cling to the beast in flight.

Perhaps hubris drove her action, but part of Salem simply refused to let herself sit idle in her fortress and await the destruction her shadow beast caused in the distance. Too many of her underlings had fallen in this pursuit for her not to witness her plan come to fruition in person. She had set forth to crush Ozpin's legacy of lies, wanted to see it personally. Her only regret in this that Ozpin was no longer with them to witness to her victory. A victory which in turn served as punishment for his petulance and conniving.

Salem's pale hand reached out to stroke the Griffon's beak almost tenderly as she peered down below, before her eyes found their way to Beacon Academy. One element had always eluded her, the relic hidden away at Beacon's tower. It still had to be there, hidden in place sight. She knew it in her bones.

After countless years of scouring the Kingdoms since the grand tower's demise, there was simply no other place it could be. Though her Grimm searched the tower's structure and ultimately found nothing.

Fortunately, Salem had powers and abilities her soulless children lacked. Whatever magics Ozpin had used to hide away the artefact couldn't conceal it from her eyes.

Still, regardless of whatever satisfaction any victory here would provide, Salem would not allow herself to feel absolution until she was certain the Wizard was destroyed. Though she slew the boy Ozpin had taken as his vessel before their union was complete, Salem would not rest until she was certain his lingering ideals were utterly obliterated.

Like the Maidens after him, the Wizard as no mere mortal. As with the Maidens, his powers and knowledge were not limited to a single shell, restricted by something as trivial as death. The Wizard's power would inevitably pass onto a successor when his mortal host died. Though there was a window to disrupt the process of inheritance, which was exactly the time Salem exploited, she still felt something amiss.

Her gaze narrowed ponderously, so caught up on her musings that she hardly noticed a strange commotion only a few blocks away. Gunfire, explosions, rubble collapsing and a myriad of other combative sounds emerged from that sector of the city. All the louder thanks to the desolate nature of this carcass city. Without awaiting instruction, a horde of Grimm poured through the snake-like streets towards the commotion in a tide of black claws and bone. Nevermores and Griffons swooped from their perches, diving at the mass of machines, huntsmen and humans.

"It seems they've placed their last hopes on this final desperate bid…" Salem mused. At her merest thought, the Griffon at her side stretched out its wings and lowered its head in supplication, awaiting its master's orders.

Salem mounted the creature, hands hooked in a delicate but secure grip around an outcropping of bone and the beast took to the skies with a mighty flap of its wings.

"Do you see Ozpin?" She said to no one in particular. "The centuries of time and effort you poured into building your guardians and your huntsman. And this is all they could offer?"

Indeed it was a small pocket of Huntsmen fighting a pathetic last stand against her children, their forces supplemented by a legion of Atlas mechanical soldiers. But they were less than fodder. They could fight until they've exhausted the last of their strength, but the Grimm they destroyed would be only a fraction of that in the city, and a drop in the ocean against the tide Salem held at her fingertips.

From her vantage point in the sky, Salem could watch comfortably out of reach of their weapons and semblance. Had they simply gone into hiding, perhaps they would have survived for a short while longer.

But in Salem's observations of humanity, there would always be those who would prefer to die in the throngs of battle, rather than idly let death take them when their years were expended. For all her animosity towards the species, Salem couldn't deny their tenacity and stubborn will to choose their own fate was an aspect worthy of admiration.

Sighting Salem from a distance, the Seer Grimm hovered from its position in the city into the sky, its tentacles lightly swaying like a jellyfish as it hovered up to her side, clicks and groans in an unnatural register communicated a report to the Witch. A pale finger raised to her lip, Salem's dark eyes narrowed contemplatively.

"So, Ozpin's Lieutenants seek to end the game where it started," Salem returned her gaze upwards to the skeleton of Beacon tower. "I suppose it's only appropriate. The king and the pawns return to the same box at the end of the game."

That tower once served as the principle communication device between Vale and the rest of the kingdoms, now it too was an empty husk. Once it acted as a perch for the Great Dragon Iszha that had awoken by the collective fear and negativity of humanity.

Salem couldn't help ponder the action. Was this a vain attempt to repair the tower and signal for reinforcements? Was there another wing of fools eagerly awaiting death? Or perhaps…

A thought stuck Salem and she allowed herself to smile in anticipation. Perhaps Ozpin's lieutenants believed the relic hidden there would serve as their deliverance.

"No matter. Reinforce the numbers here. If these Huntsmen are so eager to meet their maker, then we will oblige them with enthusiasm. I will deal with the interlopers at the tower." She instructed the seer. It clicked and twitched in confirmation before it set off to convey her instructions.

Salem peered at the group of Huntsman once more, and took note with some distant amusement that the Atlesian General appeared to be leading them. Perhaps his was a wish for atonement? If nothing else, it would be fitting for the general whose army brought down Vale to die in the city he unwittingly brought to ruin. Salem truly wished she could watch just how long Ozpin's tin soldier would fair against her Grimm, but other urgent matters required her attention.

The trip took less than a moment, and this close the decay had become quite clear. Years of neglect had allowed flora to grow through the cracks in paths in an uncontrolled spread. Nature reclaimed the place man had wrenched from its hand, as it should. Vines even tried to climb up the tower's support spires and base, strangling the half-ruined building.

Salem frowned lightly. If the relic was hidden with magic, it would be under this very tower Ozpin once called his home.

At some unseen command, a large Grimm Dragon landed beside her on all fours, sending massive tremours through the ground. A ball of crackling energy formed in its gaping maw and a stream of yellow-white power connected at the tower's base level. The concrete and metal twisted and warped in molten red and white.

Salem gracefully dismounted and sauntered in through the gaping hole, minding the collateral damage. The blast had warped concrete and metal, superheating them into a molten semi-liquid state. Across the foyer, she approached the ruined remains of the elevators.

Human hands had pried them open, and recently. Salem leaned forward and peered down the deep metal shaft that tunnelled through the earth. Traversing this obstacle was trivial. With a simple application of dust on her person in combination with her magics, she arrived at the bottom floor. Her eyes drinking in the dark vault Cinder spoke of.

 _Where Ozpin had made his last stand._  Salem thought with a sense of mirth.

In mere moments, Creeps, Beowulves and other smaller Grimm would climb down and join in the search. But Salem would most definitely not need that long. Nor would she require their aid. A group of mere mortal huntsmen were no match for her ancient powers. The halls were dark, smelling of human decay. Salem's eyes would acclimatise in time, but in a few seconds after the spell-weaves settle, she would see as clear as day.

Her ears however functioned perfectly. Salem batted away a large rubar projectile with her bone sword, her fingers curling gracefully around the handle as she levelled it delicately at the blonde haired woman. One of Ozpin's lieutenants, Glynda Goodwitch.

Salem recalled she once served as deputy Headmistress to this school. Here she stood, in the place of her master, lining up to die. The woman looked utterly haggard and battle-weary, despite that she raised her crop in an offensive posture. Purple power rippled from her weapon, encapsulating pieces of wreckage around her.

Salem could taste her fear, deflecting more thrown debris. She watched frustration twist the woman's features as elemental dust rose to her command, lightening crackled in the dark chamber and Salem saw a brewing storm mere metres above their heads. A whirlwind of fire ripped forth from the woman's crop, as thunder struck down hard against Salem's form, channels of ice surged from under her feet in great razor spikes. An elemental assault that both knew was a ploy to buy time.

The Grimm Witch gritted her teeth and with one swift lunge forward, she broke out of the torrent and her sword pierced through Glynda's abdomen. The blade drinking deeply from her life's blood. The woman gasped and gulped for air, feebly she clawed at the Grimm Queen's arm in a struggle to find purchase.

Salem tilted her head to the side, her spare hand reached up to Glynda's head as crackling red and black energy gathered from her palm. Discovering what they had intended would be child's play. However, a thunderous explosion deeper inside the vault snacked her attention away, echoing sounds of carnage on the surface.

Glynda managed to gather herself enough, feebly her fingers slipped into a pouch to retrieve a dust crystal no larger than her palm. Clutched in bloodied fingers, the woman poured the last of her aura into the dust. It glowed with blue-purple power and exploded into a massive formation of jiggered ice.

Salem was captured in the blast wave, a furious growl escaped her throat as she glowered at the woman trapped within. No light remained in the cadaver's emerald eyes, her last desperate act in this world was to postpone the inevitable. With a fierce scowl etched on her face, Salem ripped her sword, arm and leg out of the ice formation, and instantly the entire crystal array shattered into pieces. Glynda Goodwitch's body collapsed to the ground, limp and lifeless.

The Grimm Queen surged forward, towards the source of the explosion weaving through the pillars to seek out her pray with a new fury. Rage in the pit of her stomach at being caught off guard so easily. Scolding herself for the overconfidence, she kept a keen vigil. The chamber halls were still pristine, with no signs of destruction what so ever.

A swish and a clang echoed through the massive chamber and Salem raised her open palm to block the blow with sheer strength alone. Such a miniscule attack wouldn't cut her flesh so easily.

Salem glowered, her frustration in full display as she examined her attacker. He wore a fine pair of red eyes and his short unkempt hair was streaked with grey. Her brows shot up in realisation and she allowed a smile to play across her lips.

"The left eye, I suppose you're the 'last' eye now, aren't you?" Salem's hand was still raised, but her gaze wondered down to the cane resting collapsed on his hip.

"You're playing with forces beyond your ken, child."

Her fingers curled around the scythe's edge, the dark energies at her command funnelled into the silver and grey blade. Dark red lines formed along the surface as the metal warped and cracked faster than the Huntsman could release his grip. The void energies jump, his right hand was tainted with the dark lines and spread up his limb like a plague.

At once, in a thunderous explosion, the scythe and his right hand exploded in a mix of blood and steel. Shards of the weapon scattered everywhere, piercing floor tiles, pillars and even the Huntsman's own flesh. A particularly large jagged piece of the handle embedded deeply into his abdomen, shattering his aura as another stray spike of steel skid across his right eye.

Soaring through the air, the Huntsman's howls of agony were abruptly cut off with a sharp gasp when his back collided with a pillar and knocked the air from his lungs. Another crack accompanied the impact, from what was almost certainly several bones. He slumped in a pathetic mess on the ground, blood ran freely from his many wounds and his right arm abruptly ended before the elbow.

Even now his meagre aura sparked and fluttered pathetically, attempting to heal wounds beyond its capabilities.

"You cannot begin to fathom how long I've waited for this day to come," Salem said breezily, feeling victory within her grasp as man's last hope turned to ash.

"How does it feel child?" The near maternal tone was at odds with the undisguised fury on the Witch's face, and turned the Huntsman's stomach. All he could do was return a defiant glare as coppery red spilled from his right eye socket. His dark hair was caked to his scalp by blood seeping from an unseen cranial wound.

Salem kneeled and raised his chin almost tenderly. Something flashed across her features. It might have been pity, hollow as that was.

"Ozpin – the Wizard – used and abandoned your kind. He was little more than a parasite, flinting from one host to the next, wasting away their vessels before moving on. Why do you continue to serve him?"

"Cause the alternative is  _you_ ," Qrow spat bitterly, still struggling to regain his breath. "I'd rather fight for an honourable man seeking to preserve life than the complete  _bitch_  seeking to end it."

Salem was less than amused by the insult, but the Huntsman continued.

"You called the Wizard a parasite, but what in hell does that make  _you_? Yeah, the Wizard does his little body hop trick, and it sure as hell sucks for the poor bastard he lands in. But damned if it isn't better than anything  _you've_  pulled,"

The words were spoken with dark sarcasm. "I've heard one or two stories from the old man about how the Grimm Queen lived this long – you're sure one to talk about being a parasite,  _Your grace_."

Qrow managed to sound defiant even as he struggled to keep conscious. The blood loss was taking its toll on him. And both parties knew his death was imminent.

Salem rose to her feet, her lips pursed in a thin line. "Well, I confess myself surprised. I certainly wasn't aware Ozpin permitted his lieutenants to have that knowledge. Given his proclivity to erase any mention of myself or your previous cataclysms from humanity's collective memory."

The Grimm Witch glowered down at him. "Tell me, boy, do you think its  _honourable_  to allow mankind to exist ignorant of the greater truths in this world? Of me?" Salem questioned curtly, regaining her regal imperious demeanour. "To permit your kind to wonder through the world completely unaware of the dangers?"

Qrow laughed a pained choking laugh without humour. "Hey, I ain't saying the Wizard's not flawed. No one's perfect." His eyes lit with fury. "But compared to you, he's a gods damned saint. You'd rather see us all ground into dust. Ozpin's world may be a lie, but its better than anything you've put on the table." His solitary eye stared up in hard defiance. "We had peace."

" _Peace_?" Salem repeated, "You call what happened eighty years ago 'peace'? Where Man and Faunas kind nearly tore each other apart over some petty triviality?"

"A war  _you_  sowed the seeds of," Qrow shot back, jutting his chin towards her and the retort seemed to take Salem by surprise before she offered a pleasant smile.

"Ozpin told you a great deal it seems." Salem noted flippantly, "Destruction and creation are two sides of the same coin, my dear. What is raised must eventually fall. However, I am not the one who would create illusions, to have others serve as my agents to enforce it. I merely seek as I always do, to shatter the veil your master weaves and remind the world - remind humanity and its ilk that the greater powers will not sit idle while-"

"Yadda yadda yadda," The Hunsman groaned, then coughed as he forced back another wave of pain. "For the gods' sake, save the  _'holier than thou'_  riff for someone who actually gives a crap, Lady." Qrow scoffed, letting out another cough.

Salem's lip twitched. "I do find your petulance amusing. It's a trait you and your master share. However there is a limit to my patience and you are fast approaching it. Speak to me with such disrespect again/"

"Sorry, but I can't help that you're such a fucking bitch."

Displeasure danced across the Witch's features "Mind your tongue boy." She warned sternly. "Your life is waning, but whether it ends in moment or immediately rests entirely upon your next words."

"And I was hopin' my final moments weren't gonna be boring…" Qrow groaned, coughing and sputtering a mouthful of blood.

Salem raised her sword, ready to strike down.

"This kind of sucks. Ain't afraid to admit that." The Huntsman mused weakly. "Sure, you won this war, and you may win next one too; hell you'll probably win for another hundred generations to come. But sooner or later, something's gonna come along to slap that arrogant sneer off your face. Something even you can't predict. And when that happens?"

Qrow gave a twisted bloody smirk, raising his solitary remaining hand in an obscene single digit gesture. "I'll see you in hell-"

With that, Salem plunged her bone sword through his sternum silencing what profanity he was going to speak, she raised him up, letting gravity impale him further on the sword as he struggled to gain breath. His life's blood trickled down her sword, his body spasmed and jerked until the last dregs of life drained away and Salem let his body slide slowly off her sword.

Salem finally allowed herself a sense of true victory. The last of the Wizard's protectors were silenced.

A sudden shift and ripple in the air rendered that sense of satisfaction hollow.

Salem's smile vanished instantly when she saw the rippling spread, accompanied by a strange bright wash of brilliant green and white light. Salem turned her head and saw the illusion give away. The empty chamber hall was now filled with a strange glowing energy, shapeless and without form, twisting and folding in on itself as the brightness and size of the riff grew in intensity.

"No." It was all she could manage, staring down at the corpse at her feet, taken aback by the change in his appearance. His dark hair was now a silvery white and a faint green glow emanated from his body, drawn like a magnet towards the portal.

"No." The Grimm Queen tore at his limp arm, all too aware of what the appearance of this energy entailed.

She pulled the arm up for inspection and was filled with unbridled outrage at the tattoo-like scars weaving their way from his palm to his shoulder, mapped in ancient runic patterns. Each and every one of these marks had been infused with dust and glowed in resonance with the portal's own light.

"NO! It was you?! You were the Wizard's vessel?!" Salem roared, ripping her sword from his sternum.

She heard a raspy gurgling sound almost like a mocking laughter and the sign of life surprised and infuriated the ancient woman. Salem glowered at the Huntsman dying at her feet, both at the impossibility of his still clinging to life despite the gapping hole in his chest and the utter rage at being so easily caught in this mere mortal's trap!

With a final roar of undiluted rage, Salem raised her sword and plunged it down through his skull.

Then the entire chamber exploded in a flash of green-white light.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 1**

Qrow's eyes shot open as he gasped for breath. Covered in sweat. his body bolted upright half in shock before a stab of pain from his abdomen forced him to lie back down. His eyes screwed shut once more with the wave of nausea rolling from his core. He'd clenched his teeth tightly, his head thunking against a hard-as-a-rock pillow as he breathed through the episode.

 _Okay, that is pain. Definitely a good sign, means I'm alive… I guess whatever that damned ritual must have worked…_ He pushed himself back up, forcing himself to ignore his stomach's protests.  _Oooor Salem won, Remnant's a barren wasteland and this is the afterlife… in which case? Kind of pointless to care anymore._

Considering how brutally the woman reacted to his taunts, maybe it wasn't the most brilliant idea to flip the Grimm Queen off. Though if asked, he'd be fairly unrepentant about how much he enjoyed it. That's not to say he'd consider those moments leading up to it as his finest, reverting to basic insults and taunts to get what he needed.

Granted, a concussion and the mounting blood loss meant he wasn't exactly in the right cognitive state to rely on his usual witticisms. But it worked - and who knew the Queen of the Grimm had such thin skin?

Qrow buried his face in his hands, willing away those memories with all the strength he could muster. Right now he had to focus and figure out exactly where he was.

"Get up, boy." A gruff angry tone spat, and he'd felt someone smacking his leg. Not gently either.

Qrow opened his eyes again, just in time to see the old crone looming over him not even a foot away, her wizen boney hand poised to slap him across his face and a hideous scowl on her own wrinkled one. On instinct, his hand caught the old crone's wrist before she could get much closer, his teeth gritted in fury and his gaze narrowed in recognition.

This old bitch was from the Tribe,  _Raven's_  'beloved family'.

Now he wondered if he really had died and stuck inside a fairly close approximation of hell. The thought of spending the rest of eternity being a guest of their ilk made Qrow's stomach flip somersaults, but the thought was quickly pushed aside by the rational part of his brain.

The old woman, blind in one eye and only known as the Hag in the tribe, was at least twenty years long dead. He remembered it as one of the only times the Tribe had summoned he and Raven back from their tutelage at Beacon to attend the bat's farewell - and the only time since going to Vale that he  _willingly_ obeyed.

"Good, you're not a drivelling idiot." The Hag snorted with disapproval, her one good dark eye levelled at him with disgust. "Here I was thinking you weren't strong enough to survive."

"Really? And here  _I_  was thinking I'd died and gone to hell, waking up to that face." Qrow certainly felt that way. The barbs came out like they were laced with arsenic, and the hag's lip twitched down in displeasure.

"It can be arranged." She threatened darkly, yanking her hand back with much more strength than her old age would imply. "But the Warchief insists on keeping your miserable carcass alive."

Qrow took that brief second to realise the hand he'd used to intercept the hag's was his right, and stared at it for a minute.

By all logic, it should be a bandaged stump, exploded along with his scythe during that desperate bid against Salem - well, to be fair to himself, he needed to stall for that ritual to do... whatever the hell it did.

Flexing his fingers teasingly and looking his hand over, Qrow also noticed that certain defining features were missing. A long thin scar between his middle and forefinger from when he'd intercepted a rogue's dagger aiming for his chest. Puncture marks from when a jackal got the jump on him and managed to shatter his aura after a grueling day in the field. And most confoundingly, the lines of muscle and age were gone. His hand looked somehow smaller. Glancing to his other, he realised the other was missing its distinguishing marks too.

"Here. Drink." The Hag spat, shoving a worn bowl containing a foul-smelling pale yellow broth into his hand. "The Warchief wants to see you when you're done."

The old woman left, hobbling out of what was a makeshift wooden shack while Qrow stared down at his reflection in the soup.

"Oh you've  _got_  to be kidding me…" He groaned tossing the bowl aside, uncaring about its contents splattering across the floor, and ripped the bed covers aside to stand.

"Okay, don't panic. You sacrificed yourself on some freaky magic altar and now you're stuck as a teenager. Could be worse - at least you have your hand back… and your scythe, and you're not hungover…  _regrettably_." He spied the familiar haft of his sword leaning against the far wall with a jacket, crimson and grey, draped from it like rack.

Saying it out loud didn't help, and it would have been better if this were just some bizarre fever dream - bar Raven, it was the only plausible reason why he'd think up literally anyone from his past life.

But Qrow pushed that aside for now. He could figure out the details of that bullshit later, right now he just needed to remember where he was and figure just how fast he could find help. He slipped on his jacket and scythe snug against his back, ignoring the pain shooting down his left shoulder and side - they had been bandaged - and made his way outside.

The Tribe was perhaps two hundred strong including the children. All around, there were people engaged in various activities from training and sparring to weapons maintenance to drinking and chatting away amiably. Lines of similar roughly-made wooden shacks formed a loose circle from a larger structure in the centre. These were the kinds of makeshift structures that weren't expected to last more than a month, but the tribe was never in one place long enough for the buildings to crumble. They gave better shelter against freak weather cells than tarp tents, and that was enough for them.

"You're awake." The hint of relief under his twin's choleric tone were unmistakable, and Qrow gazed up to look at his sister approaching him, unable to keep the instinctive spike of hostility from rising in his gullet.

"What can I say? I'm an ornery bastard."

"Fortunately for me." Raven rolled her eyes then jutted her chin towards somewhere further into the encampment. "Come, the Warchief said she wanted to speak with us. Something about a task she has in mind for the two of us."

"All hail the mighty Warchief," Qrow's tone oozed sarcasm. "Well, I suppose we should be good little soldiers and obey her instructions."

"You watch that," Raven warned, her voice a low and stern whisper as she peered at their fellows. "Even here, even with me. Never know who's watching."

Qrow followed her gaze to the other tribesmen. With well-earned disgust, he recalled how things operated when he was younger. Every single one of these cutthroats vied for control, screwing over each other left right and centre if it meant earning favour with the Warchief… or getting close enough to drive a knife in her spine and assume power for themselves.

He remembered hours upon hours of anxiety, his nerves telling him each shadow held a potential assassin, spending every night with one eye open and every day looking over his shoulder - a paranoid survivalist habit Beacon couldn't quite break him of.

"So, what do I owe the pleasure of my little sister's visit?" Qrow asked, not able to keep the hostility from his tone.

Raven simply passed it off as their usual rivalry and dismissed it with a wave of her hand. "The Warchief has a task for us and for you to come as soon as you woke up. She said, and I quote 'I don't care if he has to crawl'."

"Oh, well if that's the case, best not to keep her waiting," He had to restrain himself from saying less flattering descriptors, knowing that doing so would earn him a short violent end from loyalists.  _Sycophants, is what they are..._

Raven gave him a look and led the pair of them through the encampment, Qrow didn't meet anyone's eyes as they weaved their way towards the larger round hut that formed the centre of their makeshift city. But Qrow could feel eyes on his back, glares and scoffed remarks made with hushed voices.

"An' this lil shit's still alive." A lanky figure barred their path, a teenager with auburn hair and only a couple years older than the twins. He stood between them and the door to the Warchief's cabin. "Osprey died to drag yer carcass out in that last scrap, I can't believe we bother with a lil' shit like you."

"Fuck off, Dustin." Raven spat, glowering up at him.

"Oh, ya lil sis is yer meat shield now, is she? That's just fuckin' adorable." Dustin loomed over them.

A second later Dustin was on his knees, gasping and clawing at his throat, hacking as Qrow withdrew his fist. "Oh, I'm sorry. Were you talking? I just heard a bunch of caveman speak and thought you had something lodged in your throat so I took it out. Turns out it was just you…"

Qrow stared down at the writhing man, then moved passed his stunned twin. Raven stared at him as if he's grown a second head. "Warchief's waiting. Shall we?"

Morrigan Branwen was a foul tempered woman, wearing a pair of bloody eyes and a shock of messy brunette hair. A lethal white and grey sword hung from a wrapped make-shift scabbard on her hip, covered in cloth stained by old blood. The Warchief was precisely as charming as Qrow remembered. And she droned on while he repeated back her words almost off by heart.

Nothing would ever make him forget this conversation. For all his animosity and hatreds, this was the turning point that changed his life, gave him the escape he needed to get out of this place and find a  _real_  home and a  _real_  family. He moved those thoughts away for now. Their task was to get inside the 'official' Huntsmen ring, then bring that knowledge and training back to the Tribe to increase their power.

The Warchief didn't take kindly to failure, and made it emphatically clear that they were both to return no matter the cost - regardless of their levels of success. Qrow made no comment. He remembered not saying much in the first time around either. But that was before when he was a scared boy, too afraid to defy his superior. Now, he was so much more, and he wasn't about to go without confirming a hunch he'd been nursing since his last weeks in the other time.

"You  _will_  go. You  _will_  complete your mission and you will return to us to share what you've learned. I will tolerate no deviations from your mission objective. Am I understood?" Warchief Morrigan had said, her tone was authoritative and brooked no argument.

"Yes, Warchief." Raven replied dutifully and bowed her head in respect, acting the part of a well-trained sycophant.

Morrigan raised an eyebrow at Qrow, who'd remained silent throughout the entire briefing. "Well, Boy?"

"All this emphasis on us returning; it's almost as if you don't trust us, Morrigan." Qrow began breezily, "I'm hurt."

Morrigan's brow twitched in irritation, and out of the corner of his eye, Qrow saw Raven's jaw drop at his audacity.

"I don't give a right royal damn if your oh-so-precious feelings are hurt, boy. And watch that mouth of yours. Run it again and I'll wipe that smug look off your face." Morrigan threatened idly, returning to consult the array of maps set on her table. "And, my title is ' _Warchief_ ', show me such disrespect again and you will not leave this tent intact."

Qrow cocked an eyebrow, probing a little more. "I'm going to go out on a limb and just speculate here: you're hoping that if you ditch the two of us, then the Huntsmen teams will stop hounding the tribe. Am I right?"

Morrigan's blood red eyes narrowed into a dark glare over her shoulder. "We have the  _misfortune_  of dealing with them, just as they have the  _misfortune_  of not being able to eradicate all of us. I make no illusions about it, if you leave then maybe we'll be able to continue our business  _without_  interruptions."

The reaction only fuelled Qrow's baiting and he continued unperturbed by the threat in her posture. He'd been through worse, and he was long past the age where anything Morrigan could do would frighten him.

"So it  _is_  an exile then. Well, let me put this out there: What if we leave, and it  _doesn't_ stop?" Qrow questioned, shoving his fists into his pocket. In his mind, he was smiling and already hatching a plan of his own. "Been thinking on it for a while now; I'm starting to believe it's less our faults and more a response to something  _you've_ done? Any of this familiar? Am I in the ballpark or no?"

Her gaze narrowed and her voice dripped with malice and venom. "Watch your clever mouth, you little shit. I will  _not_  have my orders questioned by a little worm, least of all by my own  _son_."

 _That's where you're wrong._  Qrow blinked, staring up at the woman passively, following through on his hunch until the end. "Are you scared we'll run away? Like  _Heryr_ did?"

Morrigan rounded on him at once, ripped at his collar and hoisted him off the ground. Her stoic mask was broken and a look of utter rage etched on her features. "Don't you  _ever_  mention that name in my presence."

Qrow looked at her, unimpressed. "Only a coward makes threats they're not prepared to back up. And judging from that little reaction, this sounds a hell of a lot like a 'bitter ex' thing, or-?"

A fist collided with his jaw, sending the male twin into the dirt. He sat back up on his haunches, the coppery iron taste of blood in his mouth. Qrow looked up at the woman defiantly, now completely confident his theory was on the money as he wiped the blood from his cracked lip. Raven on the other hand, he could see she was terrified. As terrified as she'd ever let herself show at any rate.

Morrigan stood above him, her eyes glowing rage red. "You. Do.  _Not_. Mention that traitor's name in my presence again, boy. Not now, not ever!"

"Slip of the tongue." Qrow sounded exactly as repentant as it deserved. "I suppose I struck a nerve."

"Get.  _Out_." Morrigan's voice was low, full of spite and bile as she loomed above him like an executioner. "Get out, and do the mission I gave you. Return like I ordered you to, and don't you dare speak that name again - or so help me, I will rip your tongue out with my bare hands."

Qrow rose to his feet, gave a sarcastic bow in supplication before he left the Warchief's hut. He barely got two paces before Raven snatched his arm and dragged him to a lesser populated area. Undisguised panic etched into her features.

"What the  _hell_  is wrong with you?!" Raven demanded, fear of retaliation evident in her angry red eyes. "You're acting like a royal git, you know that?! What were you thinking?!"

"I was just talking. It's not my problem she was being precious about what I said. But take it as you like." Qrow shrugged, dabbing at his crackled lip with his thumb.

"Are you insane?! We finally have a chance - a real chance to prove we belong with them - To become one of them! And you're bringing up traitors and insulting the Chief to her face?!"

"My heart bleeds. Truly it does." Qrow replied unrepentantly. "Sure, we can do the mission, Or maybe, we have a chance to find something better than this band of merry misfits."

Raven threw her hands up in exasperation. "Goddess, you're pissing me off right now."

"I'm your big brother, that's my job." He answered cheerily, and Raven grunted in frustration.

"Just – let's get our gear and move out. It's gonna be a long hike to get to… Beacon, she called it?" Raven told him, stalking back to their tent. "And we'll have to sneak aboard a boat. I can't fly across the ocean without a break, I'm sure you can't either. Not with all the gear we'll need."

A bitter scowl etched on Raven's features. "It's going to be interesting… never been to the Kingdoms before."

Qrow smirked confidently. "We'll be fine, just follow my lead and we're fit right in. We wouldn't have to sneak aboard a boat either, just grab whatever Lien you've got and buy a ticket. It's not that hard."

"What's got you sounding so damn sure of yourself?" Raven shot him an accusatory look. "How do you know that?"

"What - you think all the times I snuck off when we were younger I was just moping in the woods?" Qrow retorted, spinning his lie with a few grains of truth.

He indeed used to sneak off as a child, try to find places he could hide and just… cry. To get away from this life.

"So… I'm supposed to trust you know how to do these things by watching from a distance?" Before Qrow could offer any response, Raven cut him off. "Well, I suppose it's better than nothing. But if you screw up, I'm kicking your ass from here to the north."

"Always wanted to fly north." Qrow joked.

Raven had gathered their gear while Qrow remained silent, contemplating his next move. The logical thing to do would be to go directly to Ozpin and explain the whole affair in length. And while that was the obvious move, he wasn't sure if that was the right one just yet. For now, he'd just have to bide his time until he got things straight.

The trip to the closest port city would take three days from where the Tribe set up shop, and Qrow was aware of a few good Inns between the two. Whether or not they were active in this time were a different question.

"Oi! Albatross!" Dustin's choleric tone tore through the air, "Heard you lil shits were bailin' on us."

"Just following the Warchief's orders," Raven told him, tossing an uncaring hand over her shoulder. "Find someone else to play with, Dustin."

"Shaddup! I ain't here fer you, Raven. I'm 'ere fer this little turd!" Dustin's face was bright red with rage.

No more words were said as Dustin shoved Raven aside and drew back his first to strike the male Branwen. But no blow landed.

Qrow dodged his punch, pulling Dustin's arm back in a lock sending him to the ground with his own momentum. "Now, I'm saying this one last goddamn time for the hard of hearing; Leave me alone. Leave my sister alone, and don't test my patience again. If we have an understanding, then stay put and don't talk until we're out of sight. If we don't, I'll dislocate your shoulder."

"Got to he-!"

With a jerk and sickening crunch, Dustin's voice was cut off by his own howls of agony with his shoulder popped from its socket. Qrow left him once more writhing in the dust as he stood, brushing off his front and hoisting his bag over his shoulder.

"Good boy."

Qrow moved further away from the tribe's makeshift dwellings, Raven in tow. She glanced between him and Dustin still curled in a ball in the dirt.

"Okay. I'll bite; since when did you grow a spine?" Raven trailed after him, genuinely shocked by the action. "I'm impressed."

"I'm just sick of his bitching and moaning. If he spent more timing training and less time gasbagging, he'd actually be a decent fighter…" Qrow shrugged. "Besides, I told him I'd break his arm if he'd kept talking."

For the first time that day, Raven smirked. "And only fools make hollow threats, right?"

"Yep."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 2**

Perhaps it shouldn't come as a surprise. There was only so much pushing and prodding a person could take before they reached a breaking point. When that moment arrived, one of two things invariably had to change: the person themselves, or the world around them.

So when Raven first dragged Qrow to the Warchief after he'd regained consciousness from that miserable excuse of a raid, she was gladdened to see that he'd started to grow a spine and stand up for himself - a surprising, yet welcome, break from his usual quiet demeanour.

Dustin Acre often targeted younger members of the tribe for his own sadistic amusement. Raven was no stranger to his torments, often finding herself as one of his many victims. But Dustin learned quickly enough that she wouldn't sit idle and let someone vex her. Her twin, on the other hand, had been a separate story.

Dustin would walk all over Qrow who often left those confrontations with a bloody nose, cracked lip or bruised eye - such injuries lead to him becoming a source of mockery for the rest of the Tribe in the process. It frustrated Raven to no end, since she knew beyond doubt that her twin had the power to knock Dustin down a few pegs.

So, the absolute last thing she - and by extension everyone else within earshot - expected was for Qrow to not only strike Dustin's throat, but later dislocate his shoulder for good measure.

Raven was proud of him in that moment, though she'd rather have her fingernails and teeth pried out before she'd admit it out loud.

Naturally, less than a minute later, that pride that turned to bitter ash in her mouth when the first thing Qrow did with this somewhat misplaced new confidence was to mouth off at the Warchief! Their own  _mother_  of all people!

Periodically, Raven had glared daggers at his back throughout their journey, wondering exactly what possessed him to do such a thing. Just as many times, she'd caught glimpses of Qrow glaring at her as if she'd happily slit his throat the second he dropped his guard.

The latter point was what disappointed Raven most: Did they not promise one another they'd watch each other's backs? Did they not promise they'd take the title of Warchief together the first time they picked up a blade?

In fact, lately she'd noticed a far greater hostility from him beyond their natural sibling rivalry - something he tried to cover up with his caustic humour.

Raven let out a deep breath, leaning against the bow railing of the boat they'd purchased passage on. Her mind running through their task, and as much as she hated to admit it: Qrow was right. Morrigan may have put this forth as an opportunity to increase the tribe's strength and contribute to its survival, but underneath that guise, it was an undeniable exile no matter how she looked at it. Even granting their mother the benefit of the doubt, it didn't change that simple fact.

Raven's face contorted into a bitter frown, staring down as the waves parted before them.

She'd never left the continent of Arima before, let alone travelled so openly or by boat. She was used to soaring high above forest canopies, tucking away in caves or other hovels to hide from the Huntsmen or the Grimm. Life had always been a struggle for survival. Yet now she was standing on a ship with no apparent enemies in sight and nothing to do with her time, but sleep, eat, train or wait.

Raven had even scouted out the docks when they arrived, surreptitiously investigating which boat would head to Vale, which would be large enough to stowaway on and large enough that they could sneak food from the storage and not get caught.

Of course, that preparation was for nought when she's found Qrow again with two tickets in his hand, and after a rather short confrontational argument that drew some onlookers, they boarded when the automated speaker declared their departure.

The vessel was called the Eclipse, a passenger liner that took a route around Sanus' southern coast and made port in Vale's capital city. From there, they could simply fly to Beacon Academy. Supposedly it could be spotted from anywhere in the city so finding the place wouldn't be too difficult. In all, the trip was expected to take a week and they were already three days into the voyage.

Staring out at the crystal blue skies, part of her longed to be flying on a clear day like this, but decided against it. It was certainly... different to be travelling some openly. Raven wasn't sure if she was comfortable with it, so she kept her sword at her side. Not many questioned a heavily armed teenager on the boat, and the few that did simply wished her good fortune - clearly under the assumption she was headed to a Huntsman Academy for the new term.

After one dinnertime encounter where an older man seemed keen on regaling her on some half-wild adventure in his youth, Raven decided the best course of action was to keep to herself. She didn't need to engage anyone of the boat, that wasn't part of her task and people were a distraction. None of them were Huntsmen or even warriors as far as she could tell, so their information wouldn't have been valuable or contribute to her mission in any shape or form. All she had to do was stay the course, learn whatever new techniques or methods Huntsmen had, then return home.

Frustratingly, Qrow on the other hand, seemed content to mingle with the fellow passengers, inquiring about current events within the kingdoms and being more social than she ever recalled him being their entire lives. He even let the dinner man run his mouth about those insane tales, thought she later realised he was more entertained by poking logical holes in the stories than the content. The man, later found out to be a merchant, then spent another day or two trying to peddle some 'authentic relics' off on the twins.

Supposedly they contained the blessings of the Seasonal Maidens from the old folks tales. The sale pitches failed miserably when Raven paid no more mind to the man and Qrow failed to be impressed, rather sarcastically pointed out a 'made in Solitas' label embossed on a number of his supposedly ancient wares.

Watching waves part on the ship's bow, Raven couldn't deny something relaxing about boat travel and going to sleep to the sound of ocean, the lapping of the waves against the ship's hull. It felt… oddly familiar, like an old memory she couldn't fully recall which filled her with an odd sense of home. The food and beds weren't half bad either, and Raven had to admit it was nice to not have to sneak about for something to eat. Granted, she still kept a weather eye on other passengers.

 _Assume everyone wants to kill you._  That was one of the rules she'd learned very quickly in this life. The world she lived in justified the rule. Because quite regularly, everyone does.

Still, with no one around, it wouldn't hurt just to let her guard down for a moment and enjoy the breeze, right?

The instant she finished the thought, foot falls on wooden deck sounded behind her. "I figured you'd be back in the room, not out here." Her brother's voice questioned. "We paid good money on those rooms, we should get our Lien's worth before we dock in a few days."

She closed her eyes. It was a long minute before she responded with a question of her own.

"So, should I just guess what's got your feathers ruffled, or do you just want to tell me?" her red eyed gaze narrowed at her brother.

Qrow cocked an eyebrow at her, but offered his characteristic smirk before joining his sister at the railing, observing the expansive blue ocean. The look in his eye was fond and wistful, like he was seeing something he'd missed deeply - though when exactly he developed such feelings for something as stupid as the landscape was far beyond Raven.

"What do you mean by that?"

Raven scowled, crossing her arms. "You know exactly what I mean. The last four days, you've been…  _off._ "

The day they started their pilgrimage, the twins had numerous and plentiful encounters with the Grimm. Usually, it was a simple task to either outrun or avoid them entirely. But in each and every single encounter, Qrow had broken from their cover to destroy every Grimm he'd laid eyes on.

'Destroy' was a kind word for it, actually. They'd encountered a host of Grimm types across their journey; Ursa, Berniguls, Beowulfs, a Geist and even a minor Nuckelavee. Each and every single one he methodically and meticulously  _butchered_.

If anyone ever wondered if creatures of Grimm felt pain, Raven saw the definitive proof of that these last few days. Qrow made them feel every ounce of agony he could before seeing to their violent permanent end; all done with a look of utter hatred on his face and a rage that burned his eyes blood red.

Maybe it was a teenager thing, or a boy thing. She knew many members of the tribe had the almost ritualistic habit of attempting to outdo each other through feats of strength and combat - when they weren't busy trying to shove a knife in each other's spine, that is.

But she couldn't shake how  _different_  those killings felt. Less a chance to show off, and more akin to someone seeking revenge. But for what? Raven couldn't say.

Qrow made a non-committal sound in his throat, "Well, yeah - I admit I'm a little pissed off right now. For pretty damn good reasons."

"Any you feel up to sharing? You're usually the 'quick and clean' type when it comes to racking up a body count." Raven questioned, eyes glued to his profile as if it would force him to reveal something.

Qrow remained silent, lost in his thoughts. Raven found herself increasingly frustrated at his hesitancy to answer.

"Look, first you're blatantly disrespecting our mother, then you spent the last four days looking at me like I'm about to shiv you.  _Now_  you're strutting about, looking like you know something I don't." Raven shoved his shoulder. "So spill it."

"I know a lot of things you don't actually." Qrow replied breezily, a playful smirk on his lips.

Raven scrunched her nose and hit his shoulder harder. "And just what in  _hell_  is that supposed to mean?"

Qrow picked idly at the railing. "Lets just say I've got some big plans outside of Morrigan's little cadre of sycophants."

Raven stared at him in disbelief before growling. "Less than four days, and you're  _already_  plotting to subvert the Warchief? Are you kidding me right now?"

"I don't see what the problem is; we were planning to take the title anyway, weren't we?" Qrow brushed off it off easily.

"Yes, by-!" Raven cut herself off, casting a quick glance over her shoulder before leaning close and to finish in a whisper. "By  _inheriting_  it! By proving ourselves worthy to inherit it from our mother! Not through stabbing her in the back."

Qrow rolled his eyes. Raven shook her head despairingly. "Brother, this is heresy."

"Then declare me a heretic and be done with me already." Qrow dismissed with a wave of his hand. "I'm just heading off to do the job that old bat gave us, I can't help it if I start gettin' ideas."

He paused and pondered something before continuing. "Besides, I've moved past that. Something as stupid as that title doesn't concern me anymore. It's too damned small and narrow-minded for my liking. Even if we took it, then we'd be bound to serve the Tribe - and that isn't a future I have in mind."

"Doesn't concer-..." Raven echoed, utterly unable to believe what she was hearing before speaking in a haughty tone. "Does that mean you plan to reject me too? Your own twin?"

"Actually, I was kinda hoping you'd be willing to jump ship with me," He glanced over the railing. "No pun intended."

Raven scowled darkly.

"Besides, 'heresy' implies the group in question is divine. And we both know what a pile of bull that is." Qrow paused. "Although, if the devil  _does_  exist, I'd seriously consider Morrigan a decent contender for the title."

"Qrow, you're scaring me." Raven said firmly, though her tone betrayed none of the aforementioned fear. "Think about this. Have a good long honest think on this. The Warchief isn't someone that can be idly cast aside, and you  _will_  regret it if you try."

"Yeah, and neither am I." Qrow declared, pushing himself up right. A determined look in his eye. "We both know this is an exile, plain and simple. The Warchief doesn't  _want_  either of us around. Unless she's looking for patsies to pawn off her own failures and piss poor decisions. She's driving our people into the dirt, Raven."

He exhaled shortly, his brows furrowing as he spoke. "Some things  _deserve_  to die. And  _stay_  dead. Her way of life is one of them."

"She's kept our tribe strong!" Raven protested fiercely.

"Pull your head out of your ass and take a real hard look at things, sis." Qrow groaned, meeting her gaze. "She's run us into the ground. If she kept us 'strong' like you're saying, then why do Huntsmen hound our every. Damn. Step? Every single attack has killed more of our clansmen. At this rate, they'll exterminate us all by the year's end. Can you  _honestly_  tell me why they'd be so zealous in eliminating us - if  _not_  for the choices she's made?"

"Your semblance." Raven suggested, trying not to sound like it was an accusation.

"That's an utterly bullshit excuse and you know it. If it really was  _just_  my semblance causing the problem, Morrigan would have left my carcass out for the carrion years ago." Qrow told her evenly. "Every damn conflict with the tribe has come from her inept leadership. And I'm ditching them before I get taken out in the collateral damage."

"Qrow!" Raven snatched his elbow, a genuine panic in her eyes. "If the Warchief heard you say any of this, do you  _know_  what she'd do to you?"

"What? As opposed to the things she's  _already_  done to me? To the  _both of us_?" Qrow made a show of looking around, a searching expression of his face before returning his gaze to Raven. "Well, good thing she ain't here, is she? I'm trusting you not to rat me out, either."

He sounded entirely sarcastic, like he wasn't aware just how dangerous his declarations were. Or worse, maybe he did? Raven wasn't sure which line of thought frightened her more.

"Damn it, Qrow - this is serious!"

"And, so am I." He answered, shrugging. "She has ditched us, Raven. Plain and simple. She's done absolutely nothing to deserve our loyalty."

"Goddesses, you're not making any sense." Raven sighed, her face pressed in her palm. "I'm starting to think whatever took you out in that last raid scrambled your brain… or removed it completely."

Qrow burst out with laughter as if she'd just delivered the funniest punchline in the world. A reaction Raven did not appreciate.

"I've got my sights set  _damn_  high, sis." Qrow said at last, Raven returned his look with fierce scepticism. "I plan to give this fucked up world of ours a factory reset, something far outside anything the clan aims for. And I'm asking you to help me."

"This is heresy againt the Warchief, Qrow, I already told you before."

"They raised us, yes, and some part of me will be…  _somewhat_  thankful for that - for lack of a better word. But that doesn't mean they get to dictate how I - how we choose to live our lives." He scratched his chin, mulling something over. "It may come as a surprise to you, Rae, but I have ambitions for my life outside the tribe. And I know you did too… once."

"No I don't." Raven told him, though she sounded more like she was convincing herself than him. "My dreams changed."

"No, you just let them beat it out of you." Qrow leaned forward. "Do you really wanna spend the rest of your life just  _obeying_  mother? Or do you actually want to live for yourself for once? I don't know about you, little sister, but this bird wants to stretch his wings a little."

He swept his arm out towards the ocean and the open sky. "Freedom is right here in front of us, and the only thing that is stopping you from taking it is you, Rae-Rae."

Her eyes widened at the nickname. "I'm going to change this whole world. I'm going to make it better for us - for  _all of us_ , and I need your help to do it."

Raven hadn't been called that since before they'd hit their teen years, and the childhood nickname almost felt like a weight impressing upon her how serious her brother was about his objectives.

"This is dangerous Qrow -please."

"It's  _exciting_." Qrow corrected cheerfully. "Besides, the danger adds to the fun. It's a challenge, kiddo."

For the first time in a long time, Raven let her true fears play across her face, she felt sick at the thought. She let out a shaky breath, quiet worry lacing her tone.

"I'm going to regret this, aren't I?"

"I swear on my life, you won't." Qrow offered a comforting smile.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 3**

Ozpin stared out the window that encompassed the entirety of his office's outer wall located high in the CCT's tower, which stood boldly as the central spire of Beacon Academy. However, contrasting the proud monument, a troubled expression haunted the Headmaster's features as he peered down below. Just beyond the edges of Beacon Academy was the City of Vale.

It was exceptionally late in the evening, or perhaps an ungodly hour in the morning. The nightlife of Vale's capital city had wound down a little while ago, but a prominent yellow-white glow emanated from its streets, illuminating the outlines of the city like a halo. From this vantage point, Ozpin could easily see the outlines, almost able to pick out the districts by subtle difference in their silhouettes.

In three days time, transports and airbuses would arrive from Vale, and a new batch of initiates for the Hunting Academy would disembark. Ozpin would present himself to them with an official welcome to the academy, punctuating his opening speech with a personal challenge for each and every one of them to excel - to use their time at his academy to the utmost.

Of course, only a third of the prospect students would remain at the school after the entrance exam. The rest would be sent back home for a chance at next term's intake, or ultimately have to pursue their ambition through a lesser academy in the Kingdom. Those that remain would later go on to become the next generation of Huntsmen and Huntresses, charged with the sacred duty of protecting the Kingdoms and their inhabitants. At least, that was the hope.

There were often strays from that noble calling. Those few who enrolled for a chance at fame, glory or at power. But there were more still who wanted to make the world a better place for all the right reasons. Regardless of purpose, the majority of the graduates would become celebrated champions of humanity.

Ordinarily, this time of year would invariably lighten the headmaster's mood. But at this moment, his mood was anything but sanguine.

A few minutes ago, the chime of an incoming scroll message magnificently soured his disposition. At first Ozpin was sceptical, even curious, as hardly anyone outside his small fraternity of protectors would know the number. Even then, those numbers were registered contacts and numbered less than ten.

This was an unknown source that not only found the private scroll line, but carried with it an ominous warning.

**WINTER IS IN DANGER.**

Ozpin frowned at the strange message and typed a response.  **TO WHOM DO I SPEAK?**

**ATTACK PENDING IN MISTRAL. PROTECT MELINDA.**

The Headmaster could not trust the message. The Winter Maiden had been recently declared as missing in action, presumed killed. Naturally the power would transfer at the point of her death to its new host, but Ozpin hadn't received any reports of Winter's inheritor.

He hadn't heard from Fenix Grimnir in some time either, his foremost scout in the field…

Granted, that wasn't out of character. The woman rarely contacted him unless there was something severely wrong. And their dealings were always… difficult, to put it mildly. As much as the woman was reliable when the situation required it, Fenix had her own agendas which put her at odds with other members of the fraternity. Agendas which, more than once, led to locked horns - and infrequently, the clash of swords. Doubtlessly, the woman was dangerous and temperamental at the best of times to the point where Ozpin had taken some drastic measures to keep the peace.

Physically warding away the stray musing with a shake of the head, Ozpin refocused on the message. The name 'Melinda' was unfamiliar. As sceptical as Ozpin was of the mysterious tip, it was far too important to ignore.

Already he'd typed the few commands into the communication terminal inbuilt into his desk, intending to establish a connection to Mistral's Headmaster – and stopped dead when his scroll chimed one last time.

**DO NOT TRUST LION.**

Ozpin's hand remained suspended mid-motion, reading the words over and over. Each repetition chilling his blood. Do not trust Lion – it could only refer to Leonardo Lionheart. The Headmaster glanced at the communication screen and let his hand rest on the desk. The holographic screen still flickered, showing a half-input sequence.

Peripherally Ozpin had suspected that perhaps this was a new tactic by his adversary to sow discord among his ranks, but that thought was quashed by a series of co-ordinates, a time frame and a code that followed. Ozpin cocked a silver eyebrow in surprise instantly recognising the signature as his own. A dark weight settled in his stomach.

The number was one thing, the authorisation code was quite another.

Ozpin glanced at the holographic projector on his desk and cancelled his initial request. Instead, he routed the call to a different device.

Recent years in particular have caused a rift to form between himself and Fenix Grimnir. In spite of that, she remained one of his strongest agents and the Headmaster only hoped he still had enough favour with her to carry out this request. Though Ozpin was keenly aware that such an act would appear selfish given the state of things when they last parted ways.

While not a man given to impatience, the Headmaster couldn't help the nervous tap of his finger against his desk while he waited the thirty second window it took to connect. The tone rang out completely. Swallowing down the lump in his throat, Ozpin tensely tried again.

Another twenty seconds passed and many grim possibilities ran through the headmaster's mind before an established connection cut them off.

"You have a  _lot_ of nerve." A woman's caustic contralto tone growled, every word oozing venom.

The headmaster took the attitude in stride, he composed himself and used his diplomatic tone to disguise his caution. "Fenix, I was hoping to ask a favour."

He could hear the soft scoff over the tinny connection and took it to mean she acknowledged his request. "What do you want, old man?"

Ozpin sighed, knowing this was about as positive a reception as he would receive and quickly moved onto more pressing matters. "I'm sending you a series of coordinates. I've received intelligence that a Maiden may be at this location and vulnerable to attack."

"And exactly  _how_  reliable is this so-called intelligence?"

"This is an anonymous tip," Ozpin confessed heavily, ignoring the groan he heard in reply. "Part of the reason why I'm requesting you take care of this is to confirm what I've been told."

Fenix made a 'tsk' noise. "And why in  _hell_ can't you let Leo handle it? Someone you've actually got some  _influence_ with. I've got my own affairs to handle right now, Ozpin. Don't mind tellin' you I'm a little preoccupied at the moment."

Ozpin paused, considering the question as he peered at his scroll resting on his desk. "Leonardo is otherwise engaged at the present time, and of all the others I trust, you're the closest to the target location."

"Oh  _yeah_?" He could hear the condescension oozing from her tone, "And exactly  _what_  is telling you this isn't a trap? I've heard exactly nothing about a Maiden surfacing, and I'm in absolutely zero mood to die this week either."

"I'm afraid I can't guarantee that, but you are the best I have." Ozpin explained severely, pleading his case. "Please, Fenix, this is a time-sensitive matter. I would consider it a personal favour if you confirmed the validity of this information."

"That depends; are you planning to exile me again after I've finished with this 'personal favour'?"

A small but tense silence stretched between them, and Fenix gave an irritated grunt. "Gods. Fine."

The Headmaster templed his fingers, his brow furrowed. "I must ask one final thing, do you… see anything?"

He knew Fenix's gift was temperamental at the best of times - or so she claimed. When she didn't reply immediately, Ozpin knew he'd crossed a line. "My generosity only extends so far, dear Headmaster. So I'd suggestion you  _not_  push it further."

Ozpin paused. "I see. Thank you. Best of luc-."

The communication line went dead with a flat tone and Ozpin leaned back in his chair, mildly perturbed. His hazel eyes back on his scroll, re-reading the code. Without mistake, that was definitely his own. But if there was duplicity, he had every confidence that Fenix could handle it in spite of her semblance - and the woman herself - being less than cooperative.

The weight in his stomach grew heavier as a renewed terrible feeling of foreboding washed over him. There was a disconcerting feeling, a sensation just on the edge of his awareness that filled him with a sense of dread.

On a hunch, the Headmaster strode towards the elevator, cane in his hand as he awaited the elevator to reach his floor. In that moment of waiting, he was keenly aware of the light sheen of sweat on his brow.

Fear.

Now that he'd focused on it, Ozpin had come to realise that this was a feeling that had been building for at least the previous four days, and it was only now he attached a hostile connotation to it.

The Headmaster's anxieties only grew as the elevator descended from his office, below the ground floor and deep into the vaults hidden under the school. Inside, the gargantuan hall rowed with neatly arranged support pillars were lit only by pale green lantern decorations. Ozpin strode across the chamber with purpose. Only the sound accompanying his thoughts being the echo of his footsteps.

Ten minutes into his trek, he came across a break in the pillars, where the tiles notably changed from the sheen marble to a far more ancient, yet not less glossy, stone. Only now, the old stones had shifted and warped into an unnatural circular pattern.

The weight in Ozpin's stomach felt heavier still and his shoulders sank slightly. He exhaled a tense breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding, and with it let the full magnitude of what he'd just confirmed wash over him.

With equal parts despair and regret, he stared at the tiny luminescent cracks that formed across the smooth darkened marble like an impact crater from a lightning bolt, the lines pulsating with unnatural greenish-white light. Tiny glittering orbs rose from the strange phenomenon, fluttering and dissipating into the air. Each one containing fractional yet magnificent raw power beyond the scope of any semblance or dust.

"Well…." Ozpin forced through his tight throat, "It seems we meet again, old friend."

* * *

Qrow tapped the edge of the collapsed scroll against his palm, returning his gaze to the sky. He'd laid back on the cabin bed, staring out the port-side window and up at the stars above. It was a crystal-clear sky lit by the shattered moon, and the peaceful sound of lapping of waves against the ship's bow was soothing to the hurricane of thoughts in his mind.

Peaceful as the vistage was, all too quickly, Qrow reminded himself of the duty he'd sworn to. James Ironwood and Glynda Goodwitch were supposed to join him in this venture. The three of them together were supposed to deliver the message and help avert the horrific fate that befell Remnant. Now he alone bore that responsibility and he felt the weight of it keenly on his shoulders.

Even now, in some distant edge of the world Salem had already set schemes and plans in motion. Looking back on things with knowledge previously hidden from his eyes, Qrow could see the obvious signs of discontent that could rapidly steamroll into the first spark of war.

And in the end, everything Ozpin did was simply trade lives for time – lives that Qrow personally knew, and felt the keen loss - but that was a stall tactic that could only last so long. What they had to do – no, what they needed to do was bring the conflict to the forefront. To inform humanity of the dark shadows looming on the horizon. To build themselves up and unite against their common enemy in the Grimm Queen, to grant the greatest chance of survival.

After all, the most surefire way to get so many disparate organisations and peoples to work together is present a greater common threat that threatened their extinction. Though, rallying all forces to such a banner would be extremely difficult, especially since the world at large had no clue as to Salem's existence - let alone the circumstances that led to her ascension to power.

Qrow was intimately aware of the risks. He knew that it would spark contention and war the likes of which Remnant hadn't seen in this cycle. But he also knew that if it came down to a choice between another Great War with the she-devil herself, and a pitiful extinction? Then Qrow would choose war.

He'd rather die a warrior on his feet, then hunted down like vermin.

Exactly how Qrow was going to accomplish this, however? Well, he was still working on that aspect.

One thing was for certain; if Ozpin would not act, then Qrow would force his hand. He would not care to waste this second opportunity with subterfuge and reactive measures. Though Ozpin would most definitely be an ally in this mission, Qrow knew far too much – more than he cared to admit – to know the old man was too set in his ways to move in a new chaotic direction.

Bites to admit it, but Raven hit the nail on the head with that one. Qrow mused with his lip turned downward.

Regardless of which Branwen twin held the correct impression of Beacon's Headmaster, at least a warning had been sent – a small step, but an important one nonetheless.

Peering through the scroll, Qrow made sure to delete the record of the message and number from the scroll.

It belonged to a passenger who had carelessly misplaced it during the ship's appointed dinner time, and at this point neither Branwen twin owned a scroll. Beacon loaned scrolls out to students who weren't fortunate enough to already own one, so that problem would eventually take care of itself, but time was of the essence. And while Qrow had every intention of returning the lost item he needed to borrow it in the intermediary.

Returning the device wouldn't be difficult either. All he had to do was find the woman, put on a bit of a performance and then return the scroll with no one the wiser. And since his purpose was concluded, now was as good a time as any.

Making his way through the ship at a leisurely pace, Qrow had come across the dining hall where, sure enough, the woman in question was searching frantically for her missing scroll.

"Oh no! Where is it?!" He could hear her desperate moans from the hallway, around the corner she was on her hands and knees, peering under the tables with absolute panic on her face.

Qrow cleared his throat loudly, "Something wrong?"

The woman's head jerked up, her make-up and hair an absolute horrible mess from the previously well-groomed style they had been in before. "Oh, no I'm fine. Thank you dear, I've just… I've misplaced my scroll."

"Do you, uh, want some help?" Qrow offered, inserting just the right amount of sincerity to make him seem genuine.

"Oh could you please?" The woman pleaded, "A fresh set of eyes might be just what I need? I've been so frazzled, I don't I could tell my elbow from my knee. My goodness, I'm such a terrible klutz. If that scroll's found itself overboard I don't know what I'd do!"

The woman continued ranting like this for another few minutes, Qrow had tuned it out as white noise and moved to the far end of the dining hall. Out of sight and near the kitchen, where he could easily slip the scroll under one of the workbenches, Qrow squatted and scoped out a realistic 'hiding' place for the device.

"Brother, what are you doing?" Raven demanded. She appeared with arms crossed in the hall entrance, her red gaze zeroing in on Qrow's hand half out of his pocket. The scroll pressed against his palm.

" _Fuck_." Qrow hissed under his breath, rolling his eyes. Of all the times for his misfortune to strike, it just had to be now, didn't it?

"Oh, have you found it, dea-" The woman rushed over with delight, in a second it turned to suspicion, then unbridled anger when she saw the scroll in his palm. Not long after came the first accusation. "You stole it, didn't you?!"

"No, I didn't- "  _Technically_ , he just picked it up after it was misplaced - but technicality wasn't going to help him here. Raven's response did little to assist, either.

"Hey lady, salvage rights. If you drop something, it belongs to-"

"Raven,  _shut up_. You're not helping." Qrow cut her off and ignored the furious scowl in return, before addressing the woman. "Yes, I picked up the scroll at dinner. I planned on turning it over to the Captain. Ironically enough, because I didn't want to be accused of stealing."

If the woman had heard him, Qrow certainly couldn't tell from how she screamed. The woman hurled more curses than appropriate for a Lady of her apparent status as she tore the scroll back then stormed off in a huff. Half a minute after the incessant ranting faded down the hallway, Qrow spoke.

"Bit of a slag, wasn't she?" He mused, seating himself on one of the dining room chairs.

"Why did you take that?" Raven demanded rounding on her brother, "She was just itching for a fight."

"Strictly speaking, it wasn't worth the time or energy. She was so set in her narrative, I'd have a better chance talking down a rampaging Goliath, than that angry old bat." Qrow dismissed, cradling his hands behind his head. "What's up? Look like you're thinking awfully hard about something."

Raven crossed her arms and paced. "You know, you  _still_  haven't told me a damned thing. About your plans, about this insane notion of messing with the rest of the world."

"I'm aware of that." Qrow agreed, slouching back.

"But to anyone who isn't me, talking about nothing seems to be all you've done for the last few days. Going around this ship asking about 'this, that and whatever'." Raven pointed out, anger started to burn her eyes red. "Then there's you glaring at me when you think I'm not looking. I almost regret agreeing to your stupid ass proposal  _already_. I mean, turning against mother - what in hell are you smoking…?"

Raven glared accusing at him. Qrow rolled his eyes, trying and failing to suppress the groan. He rubbed his forehead before looking up at his sister.

"Alright, first truth; Morrigan isn't our mother. So you might wanna break the habit of calling her that."

"Wha-" Raven stopped dead, her jaw dropped.

Qrow's lips curled up slowly, letting his words hang and taking a certain amount of pleasure in revealing that bit of information. More for himself than Raven. Despite the woman being at least twenty years dead to his memory – and that these were issues he'd settled years ago, saying the words out loud was like shrugging off a weight he hadn't realised he'd been carrying all his life.

"Thought that'd catch your attention."

Raven pulled back her fist to strike him across the jaw – one which Qrow did nothing to block. "How dare you! She raised us!"

Qrow stood up slowly, running his hand over his jaw and with a nothing more than a silence wince, set it back into place with a sick crunch.

"She  _kidnapped_  us." Qrow said slowly, reaching down to reset the chair then casually slouching down on it.

Raven was furious and threw her hands up. "Oh dear goddess, I can't believe I'm having this conversation right now. Where in the hell are you getting these stupid ideas? Are you hitting the Bane?"

"Ugh. Please, I don't smoke… much anymore. As for where I'm getting the ideas: I thought it was obvious." Qrow suggested then fixed Raven with a hard look, "Take a step back and think about what you just said back at the camp, before we left."

"I said we had a chance to become one of them. What of it?" Raven snapped bitterly.

Qrow crossed his arms. "' _Become one of them_ '. Interesting choice of phrase, don't you think. Like we'd have to  _earn_  our way in."

"It's the same with everyone!" Raven growled angrily, looming over him in a clear attempt at intimidation only to be taken aback when Qrow laughed in her face.

"That the case? How come I've  _never_  heard anyone talking about Lidth and Jay having to 'become one of them'? Those two are about six years younger than us, were born to the Tribe just like we  _apparently_  were. Never once have I heard a peep about them having to prove  _their_  loyalty to the Tribe." Qrow pointed out.

"But others like, say, Dustin Acre or Blaze Henry who came to us later in life? They had to 'earn their way in'. Capping that off; I don't see anyone else being treated as horribly as we are."

Raven huffed. "The weak die, brother. Don't you remember the rule?"

Qrow groaned, rolling his eyes, "Cut the shit; there's Survival of the fittest, and there's petty cruelty for cruelty's sake. It's not strength, Raven. What she does is pointlessly destroyed her own warrior's potential to satisfy her own little ego."

The Branwen brother scoffed, leaning back. "And Morrigan wonders why the Tribe's gone to shit, along with the Huntsmen chasing our asses. Its her own fault her people suffer, and she paints us as scapegoats for her own ineptitude."

Raven's face twisted with anger, but he could see her working through the logic on her own. "Who is our mother then, if you're so 'wise' to these things?"

"I'm surprised you even have to  _ask_  that question; I thought it was painfully obvious." Qrow shrugged then Raven ripped at his collar, yanking him from his seat.

"Qrow!"

"Use your head, little sister. Who is the  _one_ person Morrigan absolutely refuses to discuss? Forbade everyone else to discuss on pain of death," Qrow raised a finger and indicated his cracked lip. "The Eagle, herself."

He could see the dawning horror on Raven's face as she slowly came to the conclusion, her rage came out in a low hiss as she jerked his collar. "No! No I  _refuse_  to believe our mother is that traitor!"

"Is she?" Qrow prompted, raising an eyebrow. "Is she really a traitor? Way I see it, only traitor in this conversation is Morrigan. For lying to us our whole lives."

Raven's ire only grew, she released his collar and started to pace with her arms crossed. "Fine, if that's the case, then why did she leave us with Morrigan if she's our 'mother'?"

"You can ask her yourself, because despite what Morrigan says; Eryr's still very much alive." Qrow said with a note of finality. "For what I plan to do, I need to find her anyway. I figure we could kill two birds with one stone."

"Back there again, your 'plan'." Raven grumbled. "Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I could help a little more if you just told me anything?"

The younger twin crossed her arms once more, glowering. "Although, from what I've been told so far about these insane notions. I'm not sure I want any part in them."

Qrow considered her for a moment. "To be honest with you, I've never been good at explaining. I figure the best way to explain things is to show you-"

"Then show me!" Raven barked.

"-To do  _that_ , we need to get to Beacon first." Qrow continued as if uninterrupted, he rose to his feet. "I need to break into a restricted section to show you. I'll tell you everything then, and I mean  _everything_. I'll answer all questions I can. After that, you can decide if you want to leave. Frankly, I won't hold it against you.  _Or_  you can help me break this twisted world and usher in something new. Something  _better_."

Raven glowered at him, clearly mulling over the proposition and was taken aback when he offered her hand. She glanced at it in stunned silence, then at him. She'd never seen such sincerity on her brother's face before. After a long moment's contemplation, Raven gave a small nod. But not without a few provisions of her own.

"Fine," Raven declared. "On the condition that if Eryr is still alive, if we  _do_  find her and I prove you wrong, then I get to kill her. And then, I may just kill you."

"And if I'm right?" Qrow prompted, unconcerned by the overt threat.

"Then," Raven began. The idea that what he said was correct was ludicrous, but if he was truly willing to gamble his life on it? Well, it proved his determination if nothing else.

"Then,  _we_  return to the tribe and kill Morrigan together."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 4**

Helena Volt gave a low whistle of astonishment as she ran a grey gloved hand over her electric blue hair, scraped back in a tight plait that reached her waist. The vibrant colour stood as a stark contrast to her sun-baked skin, a mark of her Vacuo heritage.

Until only a moment ago, the Huntress sat alone in a private one-room unit, rented at a local inn on the north-western coast of Sanus.

The bed, lined with beige sheets, crouched on the left side of the room and took up half the space. The rest was occupied by the desk directly opposite. A small walk-in bathroom that doubled as a latrine, was situated to the immediate left of the front door. Only a small window between the desk and bed gave the illusion of space.

Not that Helena minded the cramped room. She had only intended to stay the night, and such wanting accommodations were often part and parcel for her profession. At the very least, she was given a roof over her head. A bottle and glass of amber liquor sat untouched on the desk, and she'd shed her deep maroon overcoat on the bed, along with a pair of razor-sharp claws that served as her weapons.

In truth, the fact that she found an inn at all was a blessing. It meant she wouldn't have to camp in the woods, and with the hellacious storm gathering on the horizon as well as reports of Grimm activity spiking in the local region? She was quite sure she wasn't in much of a mood for a rude awakening by either.

In her solitude, Helena concentrated on thumbing through the local bounties and regional updates. The information automatically synchronised and transmitted to her blue scroll device when she passed by a regional relay station just twenty kilometres south of the township.

She was so focused on a host of new missions and help requests that she failed to sense the familiar sizeable aura approaching her door, nor the footsteps thudding heavily against the creaky floors stalking towards her room.

**BANG!**

On instinct, the Huntress jumped to her feet a split second after the door had been kicked open. The chair clattering loudly against the wood floor as she snatched up her claws, ready in a battle crouch for a confrontation.

Furious and on edge from the intrusion, Helena nearly attacked. Only to stop dead when she caught a good glimpse of her uninvited guest, who proceeded to deposit a young child of barely ten years on the bed.

The girl was covered head to toe in dirt, rags, cuts, scrapes and bruises with a thick dirty bandages wound around her throat. The state of her was pitiful, but that concern was admittedly secondary to the elation Helena now felt towards her contemporary.

It was Fenix Grimnir, a fellow huntress of whom, Helena was well-acquainted, wearing a fine black suit and red shirt. The left sleeve had been knotted just above elbow in place of her missing limb. Her white-grey hair was swept back in a messy tail, save for the large portion that hung over the left half of her face to hide the ancient disfiguring burns that scarred her flesh. A pair of tinted wrap-around glasses completed the ensemble, which she promptly took off to reveal her remaining red eye.

"Fenix!" Helena was beyond ecstatic, and threw her arms around the woman in sheer delight while ignoring the irritated look and grumble she'd received in turn.

It had been at least five years since their last meeting. Five long years since Fenix made her feelings on the rest of the world emphatically clear and disappeared into the wilderness. In fact, the white-haired huntress had intended never to be heard from again. Which only added more mystery to her sudden reappearance now - especially with a battered unconscious child in tow.

Despite the bitterness and sorrowful parting last time, Helena embraced one of her oldest friends and former leader like one sister welcoming another home.

"O-or if it's just us, do you want to be called-? Ya know what? It doesn't matter. You look  _absolutely_ fantastic!" Helena broke the embrace, tracing her hands down Fenix' frame, flattening out any crinkles and dusting off some lint. "This look really does you justice. I love the new-"

"Ya done?" Fenix' acerbic tone cut her off.

Oh, how Helena missed that choleric attitude. The blue-haired huntress removed her clawed gauntlets, resting her hands firmly on Fenix's shoulders.

"You know, You've been gone for years! There's a  _hell_  of lot for you to catch up on!" Helena couldn't help the cheer in her tone as her orange eyes focused on the figure standing before her, then indicated to the girl callously dropped on the bed. "But for starters; what the  _hell_ Fe-fe? You can't go around kidnapping children for kicks!"

That levity earned a particularly venomous red glare from Fenix and Helena knew she'd crossed a line. An apologetic look flashed across her features before she attempted to backpedal, returning the conversation to a more productive subject. Chiefly, an explanation for her friend's sudden return.

Thankfully, Fenix wrenched that duty away from her. Jutting her chin towards the young girl who now appeared to be sleeping. "Keep your voice down, you idiot. She's the Winter Maiden. We've been travelling nearly four days straight and I want her as rested as possible."

Helena looked at the child in mild surprise before moving over to give her wounds a superficial examination. At worst, she'll be tired and sore for a few days. "What happened?"

Fenix replied cryptically. "Nothing I couldn't handle, but the girl's exhausted. The pace we've kept is hardly fit for a small child."

"Mmm." Helena hummed in agreement, carefully working her overcoat from under the young Maiden and throwing it over her frame like a blanket. "So, does 'Winter Maiden' have a name?"

"Melinda Frost."

Helena blinked. "... Oddly appropriate name, don't you think?"

"The surname I gave her." Fenix explained shortly, then moved on to answer the implicit questions still held in Helena's gaze. "The girl's an orphan. I found her in a village razed by a marauding tribe. Her vocal cords are damaged beyond repair, but she listens and writes well enough."

That caught Helena's attention. "Tribe… as in a bandit tribe? Are you sure? Were they the same-"

"Irrelevant." Fenix waved her single hand dismissively, completely disregarding the line of thought. "I'm reporting to Oz that his information didn't pan out, and that the maiden's lost. In the meantime, I need you to watch out for her. Keep her away from prying eyes."

"Oz?" Helena cocked an eyebrow. "I thought you weren't on speaking terms? Last I heard, ya know about five years back, he kicked your ass out of the Kingdoms...  _again_."

Fenix spat, her tone filled to the brim with spite. "We're  _not_. He called in a debt: I've  _paid_. Now that arrogant bastard can shove any more 'favours' up his reincarnating ass."

The other Huntress nodded her understanding quietly, but something about the situation was not sitting right with her. "Hold on a minute. Why didn't he contact Lionheart about this? I mean, he could have come even to me. He didn't have to get in touch with a washed-up defamed exile who's basically lost the will to live..."

Helena immediately winced when she realised she'd mused those thoughts out loud and withered under the scowl levelled at her. "Sorry."

" _Amazingly_ , I had exactly the same questions myself. Apparently, I was the only one he could 'trust enough' to see this through." Fenix answered, perching her hand on her hip.

"Irony abounds as the one person he asked to find the maiden is the one person now hiding the Maiden away." Helena noted, thoroughly amused.

"Regardless. That'll be your job to find out. Why does Oz suddenly not trust his own subordinates to do their damn jobs? If we're lucky, we might find a chink in the armour to exploit." Fenix told her calmly. "In the meantime, I need you to look out for the girl. When the time comes, I'll need her help."

Helena crossed her arms across her chest. "You're not going to force her into being a Maiden, are you?"

"What kind of question is  _that_? Of course not." Fenix was utterly incensed by the accusation and glanced at the child. "She can do with whatever the  _hell_  she pleases. I only need her to be a maiden for one task. Once that's over - the rest of her life is hers to do with as she wishes."

"Generous. And ambitious." Helena commented, giving a knowing smirk. "I think I know  _exactly_  what you're thinking right now. And I've gotta tell you that, one; you're damned crazy. And two; you'll paint a big-ass target on your back. Isn't that like…  _totally_  the opposite of what you wanted last time we spoke?"

"Time and circumstances. Something's changed, and I need to find out what." Fenix slid on her sunglasses once more and moved towards the door.

Helena hummed, crouching by the bed to get another look at the sleeping Maiden. "So while I'm playing spy and baby-sitter, what are you going to do?"

"I'm headed to Sanus. There's a new asset on the field and I want it in my back pocket before Oz or Salem put their grubby mitts on it."

"A new asset?" Helena echoed curiously, her head jerking up as thought suddenly occurred to her. "Oh, Lanthus is there right now. He was taking a few days off for his kid. Apparently, the girl's old enough to attend Beacon. Time flies, huh? I mean, she's around about the same-"

Helena's voice trailed off once more, reminding herself that some subject matters were sensitive to her friend. And a sense of dread touched her own heart. Shaking her head clear of the thought, she continued her previous point. "Lan's scroll number hasn't changed either, so he could probably secure the asset for you?"

Fenix gave an almost imperceptible nod at the information. "Much as I appreciate the assist, I prefer to handle this on my own. I haven't been to Vale in a while, there's a whole mess of other matters I need to look into. As for you..."

"You want me to both keep the Melinda off the radar, and find out why Old Man Oz didn't want Headmaster Lionheart involved. I  _get_  it." Helena summarised with a dejected tone, her shoulders slumped with an exaggerated sigh. "I've got some friends still in Haven. And I'll try and snoop around, call in a favour or two."

"Let me know what you find." The white-haired huntress gave a firm nod before making her departure, mildly satisfied.

"Hey Fenix. Does this mean you're back?" Helena asked after her.

Fenix stopped mid-stride. For the moment, which seemed to stretch on for eternity, she considered her thoughts carefully. It took her several minutes to finally answer the question.

"I'm not going to say I'm 'back' per se..." Fenix paused, swallowing.

"Every path I saw ended with my death after failing to protect that girl. But for some… reason, I've begun to see possibilities again. The same possibilities that enlightened me to our new asset." Fenix explained distantly.

Helena hesitated to ask, but pushed the words out anyways. "Is that enough to keep you with us?"

Fenix exhaled slowly. "Until I figure out why I can see again? I suppose it is."

* * *

A lifetime of training, discipline and study had all lead to this one golden opportunity, and Summer was torn between feverish excitement and apprehension that her moment was finally here. Feelings that only intensified as the airbus drew nearer to Beacon Academy.

Wrapped in a pale white cloak with the hood drawn over her two-toned hair, Summer clutched it tightly around herself like a security blanket. She'd been trying her best to soothe her nerves by reading one of her favourite books, a gift from her father on her last birthday. But even the adventures of Electra the Agile did little to ease her spirits. So, for the last few hours the book had lain on her lap, open at the same page and she unable to absorb any of the text.

Summer peered out through a viewing port, watching the city shrink into the horizon then turned her gaze to the other occupants feeling more and more out of place as the seconds dragged on.

Though she knew that at least three of them would become her teammates for the duration of her stay at Beacon, she couldn't help the hundreds of questions running through her mind. What if she couldn't get along with them? What if she was the bad teammate who couldn't keep up with the rest of them? What if she failed?

Any further thoughts were cut short by the loud chime that resonated through the entire cabin, snatching the attention of all present. A second afterwards, a holographic projection of a young Huntress wearing square spectacles, a black and white dress and voluminous purple cape appeared in the cabin. Her face also appeared on the monitors situated around the craft previously displaying the Vale National news.

The woman in question was Glynda Goodwitch, a member of the Academy Staff who presented a brief, albeit slightly heavy handed, speech about their duty to learn and become the new protectors of humanity. There was nothing rather remarkable or unique about the speech, not the set of instructions they followed.

Summer had listened, but found that, instead of soothing her nerves like the reassuring tone clearly intended, the fearful weight in her stomach doubled.

It wasn't until a heavy reverberating thud through the deck did Summer move from her seat on the transport, and meekly make her way to boarding ramp, the book closed and clasped tightly in her hands.

Summer made her way down the pathway, trying her best to keep to herself and soothe her nerves. Given that her favourite book had failed her, she turned to her second most favourite pass time instead: Weapons.

They were so interesting and unique, and each had their own flares that revealed something of their user's personality.

One boy, whose hair and eyes were the colour of mud, had what appeared to be some sort of musical device collapsed on his wrist guard like a buckler. It shared a stylistically similarity to the noise cancelling headphones hanging on his neck. Each designed with an assortment of dulled coloured buttons on its surface. If Summer had to guess, the boy had some sort of sound-based semblance or dust abilities to compliment the designs.

Another student wielded a classic sword and shield, albeit with some modifications to the sword guard that allowed for a gun barrel to be integrated into the blade and a trigger into the handle. A straight-forward if pedestrian design that indicated the fighter didn't mind being in the thick of things.

Across the cabin, Summer spotted some more intriguing designs. Halberds, dust-based swords, throwing glaives and more. There was a girl with a mane of jet black hair and an exotic sword. Though the design could use a little work and refinement, her weapon was a sword with a scabbard containing a multitude of blades from what Summer could tell. She assumed they must have been forged from different dusts to account for the rainbow of colour in the tiny scabbard. It showed a somewhat versatile arsenal with attention to maximum lethality.

The boy with her, by contrast, had a deceptively simple looking sword collapsed on his back. Simple in appearance, but Summer had the distinct impression that it had more than a few tricks up its sleeve. The blade was bulkier than his contemporary - which Summer assumed was his sibling, based on their nearly identical colouring. The flat had been decorated with etching and flanked by two shotgun barrels. Like the weapons, the pair of them had an air of lethality and mystery about them, though exactly why? She couldn't say.

Idly, Summer wondered if she would be partnered up with these people and became so utterly lost in yet another cycle of anxious self-talk, she had completely forgotten to watch her step and-

_**THUD!** _

She walked face-first into a pole.

The cloaked huntress landed flat on her hunches, hand clutching her face with a soft groan as a dull pain throbbed in her forehead. Though her face was flushed red with embarrassment more than pain as more than a few onlookers heard the deep sound and laughed. Summer pulled her hood further over her face. Summer could only imagine this coming back to haunt her later in her schooling and almost felt dying from embarrassment would have been a kinder fate.

"Here." A gloved hand entered her field of vision, even as the person offering still shook slightly from laughter. "Are you okay?"

Summer took the hand and was pulled to her feet with surprising strength. Quickly she adjusted her hood and glanced up at the other student. A young man with dazzling blue eyes and bright blonde hair regarded her with an easy grin.

"Hey, what's the matter? Cat got your tongue? You're gonna have a pretty hard time making friends if you just keep to yourself all the time!" The boy said, his grin never shifting.

"I'm uh… I'm not really the friends-making type." Summer confessed, taking her hand back and keeping her hood down.

"Then you're just setting yourself up for a heck of a hard time here," the boy answered, "Look, how about you started with me? I'm pretty new to the Kingdom, just moved here from Vacuo see. So I could use a good friend. Heh, My name's Tai. Taiyang Xiao Long."

He thrust his hand out for a shake and Summer recoiled, though she was more amused than distressed. "You're kind of pushy."

Taiyang winced, retracting his offer slightly. "Right, sorry. Just… ya know,  _excited_. Look at this place. Its Beacon freaking Academy! Gods, if my friends at Nile's End could see me now, they wouldn't even believe it."

He gave a short rumbling laugh before quickly correcting himself. "Oh, sorry, got lost in the moment for a second. What's your name?"

"I'm Summer… Summer Rose." She offered a shy smile, giving his hand a solid shake. "And, I'm kind of in the same boat. I came from way up north. My first time saying in Vale proper. Its uh... its a little overwhelming."

"Oh, Atlas?" Taiyang asked excitedly.

"No. Um, it's, uh... its a small village on the very northern coast of Sanus." Summer explained, pointing away as if the village would appear on the horizon. "It's pretty far out of the way."

Taiyang whistled appreciatively. "You're not wrong there! Must have taken you  _weeks_  to get all the way here. That's some dedication."

"Yeah, it was a bit of a trip." Summer admitted, finding something about the boy's easy going manner that made talking… less strenuous. But she quickly discovered she was running out of discussion topics. And trying as hard as she might, she couldn't thing of a single thing to ask.

"Hey," Tai said abruptly, cutting off whatever thoughts she'd had. "So, why Beacon? I'm pretty sure Atlas would have been closer? Especially if you're all the way up north - do you get a lot of snows up there?"

Summer raised an eyebrow at him. "You know, you sure are chatty."

Taiyang withdrew again, "Right, again. I'm working on it. Just… kinda enjoying the moment is all."

Summer wasn't entirely certain to what moment he was referring. Granted, if he meant the Academy itself, she couldn't deny his point. "Yeah, we get a lot of snow. Winter is pretty biting, but my friends and I always made it fun."

Taiyang nodded understandingly before gently prompting Summer again. "So... what's your story? Why Beacon Academy?"

Summer gave a weak smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. She hesitated for a moment before answering evenly. "My dad's a Huntsman. He studied at Beacon himself, and he always sung his team's praise. He practically did a song and dance whenever he talked about them." She chuckled, "So when it came time to put my name down on the enrolment list, I figured what the heck? If Dad liked it, I'm sure I would too. Maybe I can get wrapped up in a lot of crazy adventures with my team too."

Taiyang nodded along to her story, his grin fading only for a short few seconds before it resumed its previous dazzling appearance. "Oh, no way. Your Dad's a Huntsmen too? That's pretty cool."

"Yeah," Summer chuckled timidly, unsure what else to add.

"So, hunting is kind of like a family tradition for you is it?"

Summer muttered. "I guess…?"

"You don't sound too convinced?" Taiyang pointed out.

Quickly, Summer redirected the conversation back to him. "What about you? Does hunting run in the family for you too?"

He shook his head. "Nah, not really. Kind of a black sheep like that. I'm the first Huntman in my family, the rest are all into botany and herbalism. I mean, its cool and all, its just not something I'd like to dedicate my life to, ya know?"

"Yeah. I get you... Here's hoping there's no wolves roaming about to take a bite out of you." Summer joked, trying to inject a little of her usual humour to scrap away the nervous weight in her stomach.

Taiyang laughed out loud at the comment to Summer's grief relief and he clapped a hand on her shoulder. "So, now that we're totally the best of friends, how about we get a move on. The opening ceremony's about to start and we wouldn't wanna miss that."

Summer glanced up at him, regarding him with amusement. "You're really super weird, you know that?"

Taiyang wore the comment like a badge of honour. "So I've been told."


	6. Chapter 6

After they had arrived in the auditorium, which was filled with far too many people for Summer's liking or comfort, the students had already arranged themselves into small clustered groups before a large raised stage at the front of the room. It was clearly a duelling platform elevated by five small steps on its left and right, with a single microphone and sound equipment set up for the Headmaster and Deputy Headmistress to make their official welcome. Though no Professor had made an effort to quiet the incoming rabble just yet.

Oddly, Professor Ozpin was nowhere to be found. Despite an absentee headmaster, Summer could spot Glynda Goodwitch to the side, speaking in hurried hushed tones to another teacher, a slim man with ginger hair and wearing a maroon double-breasted vest. A low buzz of conversation rose and filled the air as aspirants rushed to introduce themselves to one another, and, in Summer's mind, oversold boastful recounts of their prior achievements or schooling.

As an observer by nature, Summer watched the expressions of those around her keenly as they spoke, a strained smile here and there, genuine affection and excitement elsewhere. Passive-aggressive barbs traded back and forth between others. It all seemed in good fun, but there was no mistaking the intention behind the conversations. Small, but intense and meaningful.

Until the entrance exam tomorrow was concluded, the aspirants were scoping out their competition, gauging those they would be competing against for a position at this illustrious academy. Offers of alliance were being extended and lines of conflict being drawn. There were only limited positions after all.

Optimistically, perhaps a third of the students if that would remain when the test was complete. Realistically? Summer believed the number would be far fewer. And as the young huntress peered around, seeing the magnificent display of weapons and characters of all sorts, she was seriously doubting her ability to secure one of those places for herself.

She had neither a background studying at the combat academies, nor any merits to her name. In truth, the only reason she picked up a bow was to fight off a small Grimm when she was a girl, to protect her friends one day when they were playing. Archery had always been a passing interest of hers, and that helped her that day to the gratitude and admiration of her friends back home.

It wasn't until much later, when her father entered the scene, that Summer received any kind of proper training. That was thoroughly informal and sporadic at best, given his status as a professional Huntsman called him all across the continent. And Summer's mother, though a great warrior herself, had died when she was only six.

Her father had unlocked Summer's aura, mentored her diligently as he could, taught her how to utilize and refine her semblance, then gave her the means to design and forge her own weapon. Regrettably, despite his best efforts, he couldn't teach her much about shooting that she didn't already know. Still, when Summer broached the topic of attending a true Hunting school, he believed fervently that she'd succeed.

Despite his words and unwavering faith, Summer couldn't help but feel she might fail his expectations.

On nervous instinct, she pulled her cloak even tighter around her shoulders and shrunk in on herself, hoping to avoid notice from anyone who may think her an easy target to pick off.

An action made decidedly harder by the boisterous Taiyang who seemed content to laugh and cajole with everyone that crossed their path. There was a kind of tension behind the action that had Summer wondering if this was just his way of dealing with a new stressful situation, and the more Tai acted out, the more she was convinced it was. He did seem thoroughly excitable and, if she was entirely honest, a little overbearing when he introduced himself.

"No need to be so nervous, Sum!" he cheered, giving her an encouraging clap on the back that broke her, however briefly, out of her melancholic trance. "It's gonna be fine. Besides you've got me in your corner! Not to boast or anything, but I'm a pretty badass fighter myself. I reckon if you stick with me, you'll be set for the rest of your time here."

Summer felt the corner of her lips curl up into a slight smile. "You're certainly the confident one, aren't you? You sure you've got enough bite to match that bark of yours?"

Taiyang had laughed merrily at this, another clap on her shoulder followed. "Oh I've got  _plenty_  fight in me! Don't you worry about that, Sum."

"Good," Summer had said quietly, looking around once more. She lowered her voice as to not be heard over the crowd. "Because I think we'll need all the help we can get for tomorrow. I've been told about it. It's some sort of live field exercise, they'll be assessing our combat abilities in a real world situation."

"What? Like actually fighting Grimm? Are they gonna round them up and test us on how quick we take 'em down?"

Summer shrugged.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, Taiyang seemed pleased at this. A cocky grin on his face when next he spoke. "Then it sounds like we should be gathering allies ourselves. And fast too. Looks like everyone's already started to form off into their own little packs. Odds are all the strong ones will be taken if we don't get our butts in gear."

Summer agreed with the assessment. Her fingers clutching her cloak tightly before she'd convinced herself that such a display of outright fear would be misconstrued as weakness.

A brief high pitched feedback sound resonated throughout the auditorium as Professor Glynda Goodwitch ascended the side-steps and moved to the centre of the stage.

"Quiet please. Quiet everyone." She addressed the students before her needlessly. The rabble died down almost instantly, the entirety of the student body now directing their attention to the huntress in black, white and purple.

Goodwitch waited for another moment before she addressed the aspirants. Summer's back straightened a little as the woman spoke. Her tone was eloquent and measured, effortlessly conveying a sense of power and authority.

"Before we begin, I would first like to extend an apology on behalf of Professor Ozpin who could not be here at the present time. He wishes you the best of fortunes in your studies and endeavours to come at this institution."

Summer made a perplexed frown and glanced around, noting similar looks of confusion and curiosity on people's faces before meeting Taiyang's eyes. The blonde pulled a face and shrugged, just as baffled as the rest. A murmur rolled over the assembled crowd before the Professor cleared her voice.

"Today, you have are all gathered here for one purpose." She began the practised speech, "You have come to this school with ideals, aspirations and to grow in strength to service these desires. And when your time here is concluded, you plan to dedicate yourself to the peoples of this world. However, we can only provide you with knowledge. But this offering can only take you so far towards your goals. It is up to each and every one of you to take that first step on your journey forward, and to keep moving forward."

 _Take that first step._  Summer repeated the phrase over and over in her mind.

If she was being honest with herself, she didn't exactly have a goal in mind. It was a question she had to ask herself, and when she did, the closest she could come to an answer was to grow closer to her father or to protect her friends back home. But those seemed like token answers that lacked any true emotional weight or conviction behind them.

"You will all gather in the ballroom for tonight; tomorrow the initiation will begin in earnest. I advise you get as much rest as possible. You will be tested. Be ready. Dismissed." Glynda finished her speech with in a clipped, curt manner before she excused herself from the stage.

"Well… That was enlightening?" Taiyang offered uncertainly, looking to Summer who remained in silent contemplation.

The cacophonous sound of conversation returned with a vengeance as the students-to-be resumed whatever conversations they were already embroiled in prior to the address, now adding the speech contents to their list of topics. And the noise continued to follow them as they slowly filtered out into the courtyard and drifted towards the west side of the school grounds, where the ballroom was located.

"Yeah, it was. I'll see you later, okay?" Summer had moved away slowly herself.

"Wha - where are you going?" Taiyang asked after her, concern plain on his features.

Summer hesitated. "I'm just a little overwhelmed, is all. Too many people in too small a space. I'll see you later. I promise."

Summer gave her new friend a quick smile and wave in farewell before quietly slipping away from the mass, releasing a shuddering breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding. The building was packed with more people than had lived in her home village, she'd never liked crowds to begin with and the air was stifling. Suffocating even, and the best thing for her now was just a simple stroll in the clean open air.

As if on cue, the scroll in her pocket chimed with an incoming message and Summer retrieved it. She didn't have to guess to know who it was. Her father had purchased the black and silver scroll for her a day before, and his contact was the only one listed.

_How was your first day? Making friends? :D_

Summer smiled and texted back a reply.  _One. Sort of. He's nice. But he's loud. Its super busy here. Kinda scary to be honest._

Summer waited a few moments, staring expectantly at the scroll messages to update.  _You'll be fiiiiiine. Good luck tomorrow. Text me your team name, okay? Love you._

The young huntress stared at her scroll, smiling at the words of encouragement, then shook her head at her father's message and resumed her walk, hoping that her father's faith and effort wasn't wasted.

It wasn't until much later in the evening that Summer rejoined the rest of the intake in the ballroom. Sleeping bags and students were splayed across the entirity of the hall, some already asleep, others half out of their bags talking to their neighbours and a few more wondering around.

Summer had dressed in white and grey hooded pajama top and shorts. She'd kept her hood up. She'd clutched a book to her chest,  _Adventures of Electra the Agile_ , as she made her way to a little alcove, just under the stained glass windows with a perfect view of the shattered moon.

It was clear skies tonight, and the moon shone so brightly that she could still read by it if she became too enthralled by the story to notice the internal lights dim.

"Hey! I've been looking for you," Taiyang accosted her with a grin and a wave, and Summer had to suppress the prang of irritation swelling in her gut.

As was always the way with any thrilling tale, someone just  _had_  to interrupt her immersion at  _exactly_  the wrong time in the narrative.

She pushed the agitated feelings aside and gave a small smile. "Sorry," she apologized hastily. "I'm usually pretty good at keeping time, but I guess I needed more space than I thought to cool down."

"Yeah, nah. I get that." Taiyang nodded knowingly. "New situations, new people. I mean, I'm used to this. Nile's end had like... three times this many people in my graduating year. But I get that it's not for everybody."

Summer chuckled, replacing her book marker and letting the novel rest in her lap. "So, what have I missed since I've been wondering about? Nothing important or earth-shattering?"

Taiyang gave a pearly white grin, though it lacked the same enthusiasm as he showed earlier. If anything, he was the quietest he'd been since this morning. "Well, I've done a bit of snooping around."

He moved to sit beside her, leaning close and whispering in conspiratorial tones. Summer hoped he didn't see her blush at his close proximity. "A lot of people are already pretty dead set on who they wanna team up with. I've been tryin' to squeeze into a group or two, but its been about as successful as you'd expect. I think they've stopped taking on teammates and started marking off targets."

Summer didn't particularly like the sound of that and peered around the room, observing each and every group deep in their own private conversations. It didn't take a faunas with an ocular semblance to notice the pointed looks and challenging glares that started to pass between groups.

"What about them?" Summer gestured surreptitiously to a pair across the room, a boy wearing a short sleeved grey shirt and dark grey pants, and the girl wore the same style but in shades of deep maroon. Summer recognised them as the dark-haired, red eyed siblings from the transport ship earlier. They sat on the stairway in the far side of the room that lead to the upper landing, and like Summer and Tai, appeared to be sharing their own private conversation.

"I… actually didn't notice them," Taiyang leaned forward, squinting as he barely made out the siblings in the distance.

"Well, they look just as alone as we do? It couldn't hurt to try and ask, right?" suggested Summer.

The blonde turned to her, giving a steady smile. "Ya know what, Rosie? I like how you think, C'mon!"

"Hey wha - wait! I didn't mean right now!" Without warning, Taiyang had grabbed her wrist and dragged an extremely reluctant Summer to her feet. The book fell unceremoniously to the floor and Summer's free hand was pressed on her hoodie, keeping it in place. "Tai! I don't think that's such a good idea!"

"It's a brilliant idea!" Taiyang cheered back, "Besides, the old saying goes strangers are friends you haven't met yet. And you said you didn't have many! Well, here's two more to add to the list!"

"Tai!" Summer protested again, knowing it was futile and wondering if his hand was made of iron rather than flesh.

However, it was clear they weren't the first to think about approaching the red-eyed siblings in hopes of extending an alliance. Another boy with dark green hair and tanned skin had risen to his feet, flanked by a posse of five, meandered towards the pair.

"Oh... um... that's not good." Taiyang muttered, abruptly bringing both of them to a halt.

"What? What's not good?" Summer whispered quietly.

"When I was asking around, the general word in the playground is that guy's a real piece of work. Complete and total asshole."

"Oh... Maybe we should just stick nearby for now, in case something happens." Summer proposed and Taiyang nodded quietly.

As Summer and Taiyang drew closer to the group, and to the siblings that she had now assumed were twins, they could hear the exchange. Though, it seemed the twins weren't even bothering to acknowledge his presence. The green-haired boy cleared his throat loudly and rudely.

"I don't believe we've been introduced," the snivelling tone matched the arrogant sneer on his face. "My name is Arthur Forrest, and I -"

The male twin held up a finger, not even sparing a glance to the green-haired boy. "Hush, Uncle and Auntie are busy."

Summer and Taiyang shared a look of astonished amusement, and they swore she could see a trace of amusement on the female twins face. Arthur, on the other hand, was caught completely wrong-footed by the curt interruption.

And the siblings resumed as if their discussion hadn't been interrupted at all - something about some kind of weapon design, which they appeared to be using each other as a springboard for ideas. A stray thought crossed Summer's mind, in that she'd very much like to be a part of that conversation, but she tempered it with the notion that this Arthur character was clearly incensed, and not willing to be dismissed so easily.

Arthur gritted his teeth in fury. By Summer's reckoning, he was someone used to getting  _exactly_  what he wanted when he wanted it, having the attention of anyone when he commanded it, and took very poorly to being ignored.

Arthur's face turned bright red in indignation. " _Excuse you_!"

"Thank you." The male twin said, once again resuming the conversation with his twin.

It became evident quickly that Arthur was not going to leave them alone. And his posse was slowly but surely starting to surround the twins. As the brother and sister noticed, their conversation slowly died down and trailed off. The girl folded her arms across her chest with an irritated scowl, while the boy leaned forward with his elbows on his thighs, looking politely disinterested.

"Maybe, we should, um… " Summer begun the thought, but trailed off, biting her lip. "We should help now, there's six of Arthur's fan club and only two of them."

"We should." Taiyang agreed after a few seconds hesitation, releasing his hold on Summer and moving forward slowly.

Summer observed the situation, wondering exactly when was the right time to slip in a little closer and try to insert themselves into the conflict. Of course, she's rather preempt things before the conflict came to blows. But at the rate things are headed, she didn't think that was possible. Especially now that everyone within earshot had either awoken or moved from their groups to watch the confrontation unfold.

"Now that's better." Arthur had said, an arrogant nasty grin split his face, proceeding to lecture the twins like a parent to misbehaving children. "People should pay more respect to their betters."

A pause followed and the brother looked at him expectantly.

"Well. Where's mine, then?" The male twin had said, then jerked his head towards his sister. "And hers?"

That only served to foul Arther's humours. "You're not better than me! Don't you know who I am?!"

The brother rolls his eyes, smirking. "No, and I can't say I'm particularly inclined to find out either."

"Probably another chump who thinks they can coast through life riding on Daddy's coattails," the female twin offered, a dark smirk echoing her brothers on her face. "Does that about cover it?"

"I'd say about ninety-eight, ninety-nine percent right." The brother answered, and the sister nodded in agreement.

"How-!" Arthur's face went even redder if it were possible, but before he could say anything else, he was cut off.

"Hey, now. Break it up." Taiyang inserted himself between Arthur and the twins, using his most diplomatic voice possible. "There's no need for all this to come to blows. We can settle this like grown men - uh, and women, yeah?"

For a second, Summer caught the look of utter disbelief on the brother's face as he caught a glimpse of Taiyang. Then when he glanced around towards the crowd, his eyes landed straight on her. He was looking straight at her. Not anyone else in the crowd.  _Her_.

It was only for a few seconds, but if Summer had to guess at the expression, it was like he'd seen a pair of ghosts.

He blinked a couple times and shook his head, as if physically removing himself of a trance before peering around, searching for something or someone in the room.

 _That was weird_. Summer thought to herself.

Ten seconds of tense silence passed.

" _Actually_ , if he's lookin' for a fight, I don't mind giving him what he wants." The brother said confidently, rising to his feet. He clapped a hand on Taiyang's shoulder, flashing a cocky smirk. "Reckon you can move out of the way, Pal? I'd hate for you to get mixed up in all of this."

He tossed a glance over his shoulder. "Raven, mind if I take this?"

The girl, Raven, rolled her eyes with an exasperated grunt. "Fine. But I'm not gonna be the one responsible for cleaning things up if you get your ass kicked, Qrow."

"You're all heart, sis."

Flashing his sister a playful grin, Qrow excused himself past Taiyang, moving away from the stairs. He didn't get three paces before the crowd gasped in collective shock. Arthur had drawn his hand back into a tight fist and threw a wild punch at the back of Qrow's head. Qrow dodged, caught the fist in one hand, arm in the other and threw Arthur bodily over his shoulder. He landed flat on his back with a thud, followed shortly after by a sickening loud crunch of bone separating from joint. Arthur's right shoulder was dislocated and Qrow let go of the wrist, letting it flop uselessly to the floor.

Summer blinked, as mystified as the rest of them. The attack had happened so fast and was over just as quickly that she could scarcely believe it. Just as the remaining five were ready to lunge into battle and avenge their fallen leader, something stopped them.

"You there! Enough!" A commanding voice boomed as the lean ginger professor from the opening ceremony burst into the room. Qrow stood down instantly, his fists in his pockets with the audacity to look innocent and ignorant to the furious looks of Arthur's group.

"You and you." The professor pointed to two of Arthur's ensemble. "Take him to the infirmary unit. You," he rounded on Qrow with a dark look. "Come with me. And you can explain to Professor Goodwitch why you thought it was a  _good idea_  to beat up your fellow students."

Summer frowned watching as the Professor, Port she thought his name was, guided Qrow away from the auditorium. She noticed a triumphant glint flash in his red eyes for the briefest of moments. In fact, it seemed like he'd intended to drag on his little taunting game until a teacher came into view. Was it possible he wanted to start that fight  _specifically_  to get caught?

If so, she couldn't help but wonder why?


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 16/1/2018 Special Note: The second half of the chapter has been edited and updated to reflect new creative direction.

**Chapter 6**

The office space in which Glynda Goodwitch worked was particularly spartan all things considered. Though that was a symptom of the abundant workload her recent appointment entailed, more than an expression of personal tastes. Acclimatising to the responsibilities of the Deputy Headmistress had taken some time. And the Huntress hadn't had the opportunity to add her own personal flare to the space, swamped as she was with the administrative duties associated with her station.

Under the myriad of stacked papers and half-opened or sealed archive boxes, the room contained a single cappuccino brown desk with an inbuilt holographic computer interface. A small analogue clock rested on the edge of her desk, a gift from an old friend, and a pair of cushioned chairs sat across the table for visitors matching the desk in grain and colour.

Of course, the burden had abruptly doubled these past few days.

Professor Ozpin had quietly left the Kingdom of Vale on a matter of utmost importance and urgency. While he was reticent on any of the details and claimed it was a private matter, Glynda knew enough about the headmaster's dealings to know it was a perilously dangerous affair, whatever it was.

Adding to the burden, not two minutes ago she had received a call from the academy doctor, Dominic Oxblood, whom reported a situation among the students. One in particular had arrived in the medical ward with an injury severe enough to disqualify him from the Initiation, evidently inflicted upon him by another initiate.

Such conduct was more than sufficient justification for an immediate dismissal, and Glynda had intended to press that matter on the offender in question. Of course, in the interest of fairness, she would elect to hear the other side of the story first. Perhaps there was a way to salvage the situation with the application of harsh discipline.

Regardless of whatever outcome she reached, to say the news fouled her temper was an understatement. A solid knock at her door only served to spoil it further.

"Enter." Glynda ordered crisply.

The new teaching assistant, Assistant Professor Peter Port, opened the door with a stern expression that matched Glynda's own.

"Professor Goodwitch." He greeted curtly with a nod before moving aside and allowing another into the cramped office.

Glynda regarded the student with a sceptical eye as he entered, noting the expression of teenaged petulance. He wore a grey shirt and a pair of darker grey pants, both of which had clearly seen better days, and a cross pendant hung from his neck. His eyes were a faded wine-red and his jet-black hair was short and ruffled.

"Thank you, Peter. You may return to your rounds now." Looking past the malcontent student, she gave a shallow nod of gratitude towards the man.

"Of course. Good Night, Professor." Port returned the gesture with a small nod of acknowledgement before departing, closing the door behind him and satisfied his role in this matter was concluded.

Glynda allowed an intimidating silence to fill the room, adding to the air of authority radiating from her regal disciplined manner. Doctor Oxblood had given her the student's name beforehand, and Glynda made a show of pouring over the application form in front of her with a steely expression while she pondered his fate.

Of course, it wasn't until she glanced up that she realised her action wasn't generating the desired effect at all. Instead, the student's gaze held to the closed door with a guarded look. He frowned in concentration as if straining to sense something amiss.

"Well," Glynda began sharply, mustering a disciplinary tone and attempting to snatch his attention. "Mr Qrow Branwen, is it? You've some explaining to do."

Glynda only felt her agitation grow when he ignored her words and cleared her throat loudly in yet another attempt to gain Qrow's attention. Was he not aware of exactly how much trouble he was in? Did he not value his position at the academy at all, or understand how dubious his chances were of participating in initiation tomorrow?

As Glynda watched, an impatient finger tapping against her desk, Qrow was still focused on the door. Until suddenly he crossed the room and turned the deadbolt latch, locking them inside.

He turned back. For a second, Glynda could see a glimmer of fleeting hope in his eyes and a palatable desperation in his tone. "Is that you? Did you make it too?"

She recoiled, caught completely wrong-footed for a moment as she fixed Qrow with a perplexed stare. Make it? What in blazes was the boy talking about?

"I beg your pardon?" Glynda responded coldly, cocking an eyebrow.

That fleeting hope in his eye dwindled, and he deflated. Qrow's next words were spoken with heavy dejection. "Y...you don't recognise me, do you?"

The Professor had quite enough of this game, her brows furrowed as she pushed her glasses further up the bridge of her nose.

"I've  _never_  seen you before in my life, and if you don't keep your mouth in check I expect  _never_  to see you again either." Glynda warned sternly.

Frustratingly, this had precisely the opposite reaction than she expected, which put her even further off balance. She watched the teenager's demeanour transform completely, as quickly as a light switch. Gone was the affected teenaged petulance, replaced with a deep fatigue and despondency that made the boy appear two or three times his physical age.

"Fuck." Qrow hissed under his breath, closing his eyes in exasperation and knocking his fist against the door in clear frustration. His next words sounded far too weary for a boy of his young years. "Guess I really  _am_  on my own for this one. Damn it..."

Glynda's voice cracked like a cane as she lectured. "Mr Branwen, I don't know precisely what it is you were taught where you're from, but in polite society we don't curse. Especially not in front of the teacher who has the power to send you home with the stroke of a pen!"

She gathered the files on her desk, nearly arranging them in order before placing them to the side and holding her hands together. "Now. I'm not entirely certain what you  _think_  is going on here. Or what sort of game you're playing, but I assure you that-"

The Professor's temper grew to a white hot anger when Qrow cut across her, not only that, but accosting her in such an informal matter. "Glynda, I appreciate you're doing your job. And I totally respect that, but I really don't have time for this right now. I need to speak to Oz. It's important. It's about the Rel-"

" _Professor_  Ozpin," Glynda corrected through tightly gritted teeth, cutting across him in turn. It took all her effort to restrain her anger. " _Professor_  Ozpin is away, and you will tell me-"

He ran a hand through his hair in exasperation, "Glynda. Again, I appreciate your job. But I really,  _really_  don't have time for this-"

Glynda shot to her feet, absolutely furious. "You will  _not_  interrupt me when I'm speaking to you, do you under-!"

"-  _Anastasia Burrows_!"

Glynda's heart and fury went colder than the ice plains of Solitas. Her emerald eyes flung wide as the name rolled off his lips and her own parted slightly in shock. She blinked, and blinked again. It took a long moment for her to work out how to use her mouth again. She swallowed hard, a lump forming in her throat and a heavy weight on her chest.

"W-What did you say?" she forced the tremulous words through her tight throat. "H-how do you know that name?"

Qrow sighed and approached the desk with a sad yet empathetic expression, "Two years ago, from this time I mean, Anastasia Burrows was a teammate of yours. Your best friend I think. My brain's been a bit... scrambled since I came back, so I'm sorry to say I don't know for certain."

After pausing for a moment looking as though he was trying to compose his thoughts, he continued. "She went on a Search and Destroy mission and you'd agreed to accompany her to the southern Vacuo Desert. You were ambushed by desert raiders. You'd fought them off, but not before Anastasia was killed. When she died, you saw a yellow energy leave her body and hit one of your assailant. The then-Headmistress Petronella-"

"-Petronella White." Glynda returned to her desk and sat down with an ashen expression, processing the recount and matching it detail for detail with her own recollection.

Qrow continued as if uninterrupted. "She found you, brought you back to Shade for medical care and explained that Anastasia was the Summer Maiden, and later vouched for you with Ozpin's brotherhood. About a year later, you returned to the desert with another hunting team to retrieve the maiden's power… and avenge your friend. After that was when you started to pursue your career in teaching." He gestured around the room demonstratively. "Then, ended up here."

Glynda Goodwitch folded her fingers on her desk, swallowing down the lump in her throat and trying her best to regain her composure. Her words were a faint whisper. "H-how do you know that? About Annastasia, Petronella - I've never told anyone that story..."

"You did. You told me, and you told James Ironwood." Qrow told her, speaking earnestly. He approached one of the chairs, his hand resting on the back with a silent request for permission to sit. Glynda gave a vague gesture and he sat down, leaning forward.

"Glynda, you're gonna have to suspend disbelief here, but you need to listen to me. A few weeks ago my time - close to twenty-five years from now - the world was on the brink of collapse, humanity was nearly extinct and Salem had won. The Maidens..."

He stopped, hesitant to continue as if something about the word physically pained him to say out loud. He swallowed hard then continued, barely disguising a slight tremour as he spoke the word. "The Maidens were lost, along with most of the relics barring the Relic of Choice under Beacon."

"You know about Salem?" Glynda asked quietly, struggling to process what she was being told.

Qrow scoffed and shook his head. "Oh yeah. I know about her… anyway, you, James and I came up with a desperate last bid to find some sort of… artifact buried in Beacon Academy."

"The Relic." Glynda offered and Qrow shook his head again.

"No, there are a lot of secrets buried under Beacon, Glynda. The relic isn't the only one." Qrow waved his hand dismissively. "But it wasn't a relic. Honestly, the details aren't important. And frankly metaphysics gives me a headache, so I'll spare the minutiae."

He leaned back in the chair arms crossed over his torso as he stared off into space, lost in his retelling of the story. "Before we initiated that final assault, we knew it was going to be a long shot for even one of us to reach the portal, let alone all three. So we exchanged information, a secret trust password if you'd like, that we could use with the other two to convince them our story was legit. Just in case any three of us failed to reach the portal, or, to identify ourselves if we  _had_."

Qrow sighed heavily, like a weight had settled on his shoulders. "You told James and me that story about Anastasia, because you knew that it would be something only you would know. You knew it would be something you'd speak of only to those you trusted."

Glynda swallowed hard, processing the words. She had seen a great many things in her adult life. A maiden, both in action and reincarnated, been told about the greater secrets of the world and even shown the secret vault where the Relic of Choice - one of the four gifts to mankind - had been kept.

If one had asked her years ago, she would have dismissed time travel as something best kept in the flights of science-fantasy novels. Yet now, with everything she's witnessed in the world, to doubt the possibility of time travel seemed utterly ludicrous.

"Professor Ozpin will need to hear about this." Glynda agreed tersely, regaining her composure. "But he's out of the Kingdom right now. And my attempts to contact him haven't been successful."

Qrow raised a hand and stroked his chin. "Yeah, I noticed that. Thing is, he was present to give the inaugural speech my last run around. So, whatever he's doing… it must have something to do with my coming back. There's no other explanation. The question is, what's so important outside the kingdom when the portal's literally under his nose?"

Glynda closed her eyes and sighed deeply.

"He was in a particular rush to leave and investigate whatever it was, but he gave me no details. Simply claimed it was a private matter and he'd return by the weekend." Glynda explained calmly, adding her own musings.

"As you say, if this portal is located at Beacon, then I'm curious why Professor Ozpin felt the need to leave as quickly as he did?"

"I'm not sure…" Qrow exhaled, rubbing his brow. "I guess I'll have to wait then. But, uh, beyond that, do you know if the Winter Maiden was saved?"

Glynda studied him carefully. If he knew about Salem and the Relics, then logically he would know of the maidens.

It crossed her mind that this may have been a ploy by Salem to gain her trust, to gain Ozpin's trust and place him in the perfect position to strike out and assassinate her rival. But that notion was dismissed. Surely if he were working for Salem, he would come up with a far more believable tale than the whimsical one he just told. Nor would he have knowledge of an event in her life that only two other people were aware of. And of those two, Glynda could see neither party willing to share that tale to anyone either.

"I can't honestly say to the best of my knowledge." she admitted heavily. "Though Ozpin mentioned receiving an anonymous tip regarding a threat towards the current Winter Maiden. Given what you've just told me, it's reasonable to assume that the tip was you, yes?"

"Yeah, that was me." Qrow nodded.

"I've heard nothing on that front." Glynda admitted. "Then again, I'm not entirely certain who Ozpin sent to investigate that tip."

"Crap." Qrow sighed, then climbed to his feet. "Well, thank you Glynda. Sorry for the inconvenience."

Glynda cocked an eyebrow, suddenly remembering the reason why he was originally brought to her office in the first place and her anger returned, albeit more restrained. Less the furious anger of a disciplinarian, and more the anger that came from disappointment.

"You know I can't let you go without some sort of reprimand. And what precisely were you thinking by attacking another student in the first place? If you are as you say, you're a veteran Huntsmen. You could have  _killed_  the boy."

Qrow looked appalled and offended at the very accusation. "Have a little faith, Glynda. I know how to pull my punches! I'm not in the habit of hurting  _children_ , for cryin' out loud!"

"Then an explanation would be quite welcome, thank you." Glynda demanded coolly.

Qrow scratched his temple, listing off his points on his fingers. "Well, first, it gave me a legitimate cover to speak to you privately without having to think up some lame excuse for breaking the student curfew. Two; I just saved his life." He paused to point somewhere to his right, as if gesturing to some unseen landmark. "If Arthur Forrest went through initiation tomorrow; half of him would end up in a beowulf's stomach, the other half would end up floating bloated in some river in the eastern half of Emerald Forest."

He crossed his arms. "We'll have more than enough problems to deal with without angering a business tycoon like Tiberius Forrest, because his son's own arrogance got him killed."

Glynda took this under advisement, leaning back in her chair. However well intentioned it was, she still resented the action taken to apparently save the boy's life. "Still, for whatever reasons, well meaning they may be, I still have to apply some punishment. We can't have the students believe they can get away with this sort of behaviour."

Qrow shrugged nonchalantly, muttering something about combat schools. "Yeah, I used to be on the other side of the teacher's desk too. I know how the whole song and dance goes."

"You, a teacher? Somehow, you don't strike me as the type." she muttered, ignoring the insulted look Qrow gave her then cleared her throat. "For now, your punishment's suspended. I'm sure after hearing your tale, Ozpin will create a rather inventive excuse to keep you within the school, but expect there to be ramifications for this. That, howver, is for another night. You should head back to the ballroom, get some sleep. Although, I imagine you've made both admirers and enemies after this little escapade."

"I'm aware. Thank you Glynda. And good night." He turned and left without another word, leaving Glynda alone with her very troubled thoughts.

* * *

 

The only companions Qrow held on his slow stroll back to the ballroom was the sounds of cold howling wind and his light footsteps. The chilly air kissed the back of his neck, and the footpath were chunks of ice under his feet.

Once again, it struck him hard in how utterly alone he was in this venture.

He had held a faint hope that he wasn't, but luck has never been on his side.

Lifting his left hand and staring down at his unblemished flesh, Qrow remembered the intricate ritualistic tattoos he'd etched there for the ritual, imbued with a mixture of dust so potent he nearly lost the arm in the process. Thinking on them now, he could still feel a residual tingle under his skin from the dust and the crackling energy of the rift.

Fleetingly, he held out hope that perhaps being marked as he was, Glynda would have been taken into the rift as well. That perhaps the marks acted like homing beacons for the energy to swoop them up in its unrelenting fury. But that hope was vain at best. And if Glynda who had at least been in the vault near him wasn't transported to this time, then James who was still fighting within the city definitely wouldn't have.

Disheartened, he let his left arm drop to his side and his gaze shift to Beacon tower. Only days ago to his mind it was a blasted overgrown ruin, filled with the putrid stench of Grimm spawning pools, despair and death. The last moments of his life in that other timeline flashed before his eyes, and Qrow gripped his trembling right arm tightly, feeling the phantom pain of its removal keenly.

His eyes traced the outline of the tower before focusing on its base, and he frowned. Perhaps it was just a residual effect of using the portal, but it was almost as if he could sense something down there. Like a ghost on the very edge of his senses call him, beckoning him.

Qrow closed his eyes and shook his head of it, convinced it was just his mind playing tricks on him. He'd finally reached the outer doors to the east building, cutting a path to the ballroom through the adjacent armoury, where the new students had temporarily stowed their weapons and other combat gear until permanent rooms had been assigned.

An unbidden thought came to Qrow's mind when he realised that he could no longer stall telling Raven the truth either.

He had sworn once they reached Beacon Academy that he'd tell her everything he knew. The concern wasn't if she didn't believe him - of that he had no doubts - but if she reacted unfavourably. If she chose to run away again before they'd completed their tenure, before she found love and, in his opinion, lived the happiest brief years of her life. If she chose to run, then she'd miss the opportunity to live for a change and not just focus on pure survival.

Qrow consoled himself that this Raven wasn't the one jaded and twisted by Ozpin's schemes, the bandit queen who assumed the role of Spring Maiden, and then bargained with Salem's cohorts for amnesty by offering up her own damned family. But he couldn't deny that he'd also pushed her to an edge when he'd confessed the truth about their mother.

Granted that was only a theory, but a theory aided by the lingering scraps of memory from the Wizard, his own prodding towards Morrigan and her attitude towards them. One that was only further cemented by his taunts prior to leaving the tribe.

Qrow found it ironic that despite being the most immediately impactful to the both of them, their mother was by far the easiest truth to sort through first. Of course, his best bet to find any information on the woman was locked away in Beacon's archives. Whether she became a huntress or a bounty, a name as infamous as Eryr Branwen would have a mention in the database.

"Like uncle, like niece, eh, firecracker?" he murmured quietly, thinking of his lost niece in her own quest to find out about Raven.

Qrow knew from the start that Yang would have only found disappointment at the end of her journey, but for his, he was going in blind. Save for the claim of treachery, albeit from a heavily bias source if his cracked lip was anything to go on, he was walking into the situation blind. If he found the woman, what would be the measure of her character? Would she be surprised to see her children? Disappointed they weren't dead? Or was she like Raven, watching from the shadows but never intervening in their lives?

Regardless of the answers, he still held a kind of hope for a better resolution to his investigations despite his dull expectations.

So lost in his musing, Qrow almost failed to realise he wasn't alone as he traipsed through the armoury. The silence was replaced with the sound of gentle snoring in the otherwise empty space. Qrow's brows knitted together in a frown and used his not inconsiderable skills at stealth to move closer to the source of the noise. It was a student to be sure.

Qrow peered around a corner of lockers towards a row of benches set between them. A young girl dressed in grey and white pajamas slumped over a weapon, various parts and tools scattered around the bench space and besides her on the ground.

He recognised the silhouette instantly, momentarily stunned into silence as the familiar visage of Summer Rose snoozed on, evidently oblivious to her awkward sleeping position. He caught himself staring, closed his eyes and allowed for the faintest of smiles. Seeing her before in the ballroom, he'd felt his heart stop.

Obviously, he was going to see a myriad of his dead comrades when he'd returned to Beacon but he never truly expected to be so shaken when he did.

Their deaths had flashed before his eyes with such piercing clarity. The grief and pain from all of them snapped to the forefront of his mind and he felt like a lance torn through his heart.

Qrow closed his eyes, his hand curling tightly into a trembling fist as he willed those memories away with all the strength he could muster.

 _I refuse to let that happen again._  He swore to himself.

The Huntsman had already witnessed his world - his family - crumble all around them once. And he would sooner throw himself into the maws of hell itself before he'd watch it a second time.

Summer muttered something nonsensical in her sleep, snatching him from his haze.

Carefully and silently, Qrow padded over to her wearing a fond smirk. He should have known he'd find her here. Summer always did have a love of weaponry and mechanics that bordered on the obsessive. A trait her daughter inherited in spades.

"Hey," he reached out and nudged Summer's shoulder gently, trying to rouse her from sleep. "You'll get a cramp if you sleep here all night."

At first, Summer didn't move. Qrow tried again, squashing the habit to call her by name. Technically, he shouldn't even know her name until tomorrow evening at the team assembly.

"Hey, kid. You're gonna wake up with a cramp, and I ain't dragging your ass through initiation." he shook her shoulder once more. "Wake up, buttercup."

Summer groaned and grumbled lightly, pushing herself up and stretched out her arms with a cute little yawn. Qrow saw that under her was her weapon, a compound sniper bow, half disassembled right now. She blearily rubbed her eyes and stared up at him. Deep red lines scored her cheek where her head rested on the weapon and a line of drool traced from the corner of her lip down her chin.

She blinked tiredly before realising her dishevelled and rather undignified state, giving a small squeak and cheeks flushing bright red as she desperately tried to clean herself up and pull her hood over her messy two-toned hair to preserve what little dignity she could. Qrow had to try with all his might not to outright laugh at the poor girl's awkwardness.

"Sorry." She squeaked, "I-I was trying to find a rattle in the frame, an-and I just-"

Qrow raised his hands to stop her, taking a few steps back to lean against the row of lockers and putting his fists in his pockets. "Hey, no skin of my back. I just figured you'd get a cold or a cramp if you slept here tonight. As far as choices in pillow go, I think I'd prefer one stuffed with feathers not one made of metal."

"Uh... yeah." Summer answered awkwardly, and Qrow could still see the red embarrassed flush on her cheeks.

"Can I make an observation?" He offered, smiling coyly.

Summer spared him a fleeting glance. "Huh?"

"The dust round chamber; its cracked." Pushing off the wall, he approached and pointed out a hairline crack he noticed when he first saw the weapon in its half-complete state. "It might last you through the first few rounds of a clip if you've got a slow rate of fire, but crank up the speed to anything beyond one round a second? It's liable to explode and take your hand with it."

"Wait - what?" Summer peered at where he indicated with an scrutinising eye then gave another tiny sound of fright when she spotted the flaw, quickly scrambling to remove the damaged component.

Qrow closed his eyes and allowed himself a smirk, it was amazing how much he'd enjoyed her enthusiasm.

"U-uh, excuse me..." Qrow took a step to the side and Summer punched in numbers to the locker he'd been leaning against.

"Holy crap." He leaned around and cocked an eyebrow at the sheer number of parts and tools neatly stacked on the locker walls. Every inch, save for the space for the sniper rifle itself, was arranged in a tight efficient manner like a jigsaw puzzle, and each tool's absent was easy to spot.

Although it was amazing to see an example of Summer's near obsessive organisational skills at work, that nagging sarcastic voice in his mind simply dismissed it as his semblance waiting to happen.

"Pays to be thorough I suppose?"

"I... isn't everyone?" Summer ventured shyly then gave him a pouty look. "It's not funny."

Qrow raised a hand placatingly after a low chuckle rumbled from his chest, trying his best to squash the stab of pain in his heart when thoughts of his younger niece drifted to mind. "No, it's not that. You just reminded me of someone I used to know is all. She was a bit of a weapon's nerd too, had a habit of favouring them over people. Liked to compare them to people too. Not that I particularly blamed her for it."

Summer looked up at him earnestly. "Do you not?"

"'cuse me?"

Qrow watched her fiddle with the component in her hand, more to give her time to collect her thoughts than to tinker. "Well... weapons are what we all make ourselves right? We design them from the ground up to compliment how we fight. It's like we've made them into extensions of our beings, expressions of our personalities. Why shouldn't they be considered people onto themselves?"

Qrow gave a small nod in agreement. "Put it that way, yeah." he shrugged. "But I can't really comment, I admit I have a bit of a soft spot for mine. Carried me through all kinds of hell and back."

With a deft hand, Summer had removed the damage component and gave it a closer inspection. She glanced up at him in amazement as if completely astonished he would catch such a flaw. The huntress gave him a brief shy smile in gratitude before returning to her work, easily replacing the component and restoring the weapon to its proper form in next to no time.

"That would have been really hard to spot. You really do know your stuff, huh?" Summer asked.

Qrow shrugged. "I'm just perceptive."

Summer returned to her work. She was always a gifted mechanic, and one of things Qrow missed most about her was watching her work. Deploying its bow form as a test before it collapsed back into the long-barrelled sniper rifle, she gathered up her toolkit, then gave him a kind look.

"Thanks."

"Eh, don't mention it. Figure you'd - eh, we'd need all the help we can get tomorrow. Helping out with a last minute tune up's nothing special." Qrow dismissed with a casual shrug.

Something about what he said caused her face to contort and she bit her lip as if mulling the word over. "Tomorrow..."

"Yeah, initiation. You forgot already?" He teased, winking playfully.

Summer held her sniper rifle across her chest and played with her fingers nervously. "Um, could I ask a favour… i-if its okay? I don't want to..."

"Well, see its… a friend of mine, Tai - he tried to break up your fight with that Arthur guy - he and I are… planning to get together on a team. And, Beacon usually puts four people together for a team. I-I was wondering if you had any ideas about who to team up with?" she explained nervously.

"My sister mostly. But I'm going out on a limb and guessing you'd like my sis and I to work with you and Tai to complete tomorrow's initiation." Qrow surmised.

"It you already have other people in mind, I mean, that's okay. It's just… idle thoughts, its-"

"Sure."

Summer blinked up at him in dumbfounded silence clearly stunned to hear him agree so readily, her hopeful tone was adorable. "R-really? Are you serious?"

Qrow shrugged. "Rarely, but yes in this case."

"That's great!" She practically bounced on her toes in excitement. "You, your sister, Tai and me. We'll ace this test in no time at…"

Her voice trailed off as her expression twisted into a look of abject horror. "Oh! Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry! I didn't even ask your name or anything! That was so rude, I should have introduced myself first! I'm so, so sorry! I-!"

As much fun as it was to tease her like this, Qrow had to stop her torturing herself. "Hey, slow down. Take a breath."

Summer took a breath, cleared her throat and thrust out a hand. "Uh, right! Sorry, first day - uh, night jitters. Ahem. I'm Summer Rose! It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Qrow Branwen. And likewise, Summer." Qrow returned the gesture with a firm shake before kicking himself off the wall. "Well, now that's settled. How about we talk through a strategy at breakfast tomorrow, I'm certain you'll think of something to help us all meet up."

"M-me?!" Summer was flabbergasted as Qrow walked away. "By myself?! I'm not a-"

"You'll think of something. I have faith in you," Qrow waved a hand over his shoulder. "Good night!"

"Uh, good night…" Summer called after him, and Qrow could hear her mumbling under her breath.

The second Qrow turned the corner, an almighty chatter and a high pitched cry of panic rent the air. Doubtlessly, the beautifully arranged locker of technical and mechanical parts toppled to the floor like a jenga tower.

His eyes slid closed and his hands curled into a fist as he breathed in a frustrated breath.

_I could almost feel that coming the second I left that room..._


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: The second half of chapter 6 has been edited and updated to reflect new content. Please re-read it before moving forward.

**Chapter 7**

"P-Professor Ozpin!"

Headmaster Leonardo Lionheart's eyes widened in stunned disbelief when he'd answered the polite knocking at his office door in the mid-afternoon, and found the form of his Beacon contemporary staring back at him. The older man wore a slight but pleasant smile in greeting. His hands rested atop his trademark cane, folded one over the other.

"Good afternoon, Leo. How are you today?"

Ozpin watched the lion faunas throw a brief glance over his shoulder towards the interior of his office, clearly fluttered for one reason or another. Ozpin cocked an eyebrow at this but said nothing as the Headmaster returned an apologetic gaze to him.

"I… I'm afraid I hadn't expected you at all, Oz. If I had I would have cleaned up my office. This new term's curriculum has taken far more of my time than I expected. And the council has been hounding me for attention, it's been particularly trying of late." He gestured towards his office with a weary look. "As you can no doubt tell, its left me completely out of sorts. I'm sure you understand?"

Ozpin raised a hand to pre-empt any further apologies from the man. "No need for all that, Leo. I'm very familiar with the rather burdensome workload of a new intake. I should be the one to apologise for not announcing myself before arriving."

Leo glanced back once again into his previously spacious office, now significantly more cramped these days. The office was large, semi-circular in shape and awash with the colours of autumn. From the leaf green square throw rugs scattered about the floor to the same coloured cushions on the vanished wooden furniture. To either side of the entryway stood bookcases that hugged the wall from floor to ceiling.

To the right sat a small tea table and chairs for guests, to the left was a couch, and arching windows lined the entire outer wall of the office, painting the interior with amber-yellow rectangles of mid-afternoon light. Whatever space that wasn't set aside for a small mug of coffee or a half-eaten plate of food had been occupied by stacks of documents. Loose leaf papers and manila folders of an administrative nature were stacked in haphazard columns by the desk or shelved in what spare space the bookcases offered, along with other memos pertaining to the council meetings and their agendas.

"Please, uh… Please come in. By a happy coincidence, I've elected to take a small break. I fear that paperwork will be the end of me if I don't remind myself there's a life outside black ink and red stamp sheets."

Ozpin offered a slight chuckle at the levity, taking a seat in one of the guest chairs across from the headmaster and setting his cane against the chair's armrest. There were times where he too felt as Leo did regarding the schools, but he knew their importance far better than most, and such minutiae vanished from his mind when he reminded himself of that.

Ozpin accepted the proffered tea and saucer with another small nod. "Thank you."

A silence fell between the two headmasters, filled only by the slow ticking of the analogue cloak that rested above the coffee table. The silence threatened to turn uncomfortable and awkward, a subtle but present nervous energy hung in the air. Ozpin observed the man carefully, and noticed he seemed… a touch more fidgety than he used to be.

His mind traced back to the message on his scroll, the one warning him not to trust Lionheart. Ozpin wanted to keep an open mind in this situation, and part of him had reasoned that perhaps it was a trick. A way of sowing discord between him and his subordinates. But that would expose an even greater threat if the enemy had somehow gained access to the most confidential of information.

 _His_  confidential information.

Regardless of its validity and no matter who sent the cryptic warning and why, if there was any within his inner circle that he could no longer place trust in, he couldn't leave that to chance. Too much was at stake. Of course, there wasn't exactly anything wrong with being anxious for a new term; hoping to make a good impression on the students, tending to their needs and helping guide them through their first days of training at a prestigious academy. But this was different kind of anxious energy.

The longer the moment dragged on however, the more obvious the tension became.

It was another few seconds before Leo plucked up the courage to break it with a comment. "I… must say this is quite unorthodox, Ozpin. Even for you. I would have thought you would be similarly encumbered by new admission paperwork and the like."

"I have." Ozpin agreed quietly. "Unfortunately, urgent matters required my attention and I could not withhold action until a later time. Fortunately, my newly appointed Deputy Headmistress has proven herself quite capable, above and beyond what I expected."

"Ah Miss… Glynda Goodwitch if I recall, yes?" Leonardo noted with a pleased expression. "A fine young woman; dedicated, eager. She was recommended by Petronella, wasn't she?"

Ozpin leaned back in the chair, closing his eyes with a deep inhale. "Yes. And she has risen to the challenge marvellously. However, as much as it pains me to say, the matters of Beacon Academy are important but they're not the reason for my visit today, Leo."

The headmaster looked up, blinking, and Ozpin could detect a subtle but present tremor in his tone. "T-then what are you here for, if you don't mind my asking?"

Ozpin paused for a moment, searching Leonardo's expression as it grew more troubled. "I've heard that there's been a group of… shall we say 'vigilantes', causing trouble throughout Mistral, to small hamlets to larger settlements."

"Ah yes, this 'Einherjar." Leo confirmed gravely, finally reaching for his own cup of tea and drank deeply. Ozpin silently listened, his brows furrowing. "For the past decade, they've been gathering followers, gaining strength. Wild rumours have sprung up about them lately, in particular about a woman with white hair and wielding a sword made of light who leads them."

"And what do you believe?" Ozpin inquired patiently. Leo threw a hand up, giving a half-shrug.

"It could be little more than flights of fancy, scared rumours of superstitious townsfolk. What isn't superstition is that some reports say this Einherjar is growing by the day. Conversely, even more say another unknown assailant is keeping them in check. There is a turf war brewing Ozpin, out there in the Arima forest. A kind that could easily escalate into a civil war within Mistral itself if nothing stops it." Leo offered, Ozpin raised a silent hand towards him as a prompt to explain.

"I've… a theory, admittedly a shaky one, that perhaps it's the Spring Maiden causing this calamity. We've received no reports of a new Maiden since Andrea Hawke died twelve years ago. And I have reliably information that this Einherjar organisation was responsible for slaying her in the first place."

"Reliable?" Ozpin echoed. "From whom?"

Leo hesitated before offering a response. "… Sources found in the less savour aspects of the Kingdom. Unfortunately, the council is too pre-occupied with trade tariffs and regulations than one missing woman."

"One missing woman." Ozpin sighed remorsefully, offering out the saucer and Leo poured him another serving of tea. "Regrettably, we can now add Winter to that list. There has been an attack and she was slain. So far, I've received no word of a successor."

He paused and took a draft, letting the flavour sit on his tongue and uncertain what to make of it before swallowing. "Which leads me into another matter; One that I know will cause some… complications with the other headmasters. But, after careful consideration and given the dire ramifications of recent events surrounding our two absent maidens, I believe it's the best course of action."

Ozpin knew Leo was watching him intently, trying to read any hint of what the Beacon Headmaster was thinking. "What measures are you referring to, may I ask?"

Ozpin brought the cup of tea to his lips and sipped, peering over the rim to study Leo as he answered heavily. "I've considered bringing Fenix Grimnir back into the fold."

"What?!" Leo's eyes went as wide as saucers.

Ozpin continued as if uninterrupted. "Provided I can somehow offer the correct incentive for her to remain in a more permanent capacity. As it happens, my standing with her has been…  _soured_  over the years. It's quite possible I may not be able to accomplish that task."

Ozpin could almost see the cogs spinning in Leo's brain before the other Headmaster finally offered his opinion on the matter. Oddly harsh though it was.

"Ozpin, you banished her for a damned good reason – on more than one occasion." Leo protested firmly, his brows knitting together angrily as his hand pressed against the breast pocket of his jacket where a very special brass pocket watch was tucked away.

"Twice." Ozpin supplied, lowing the cup back to the saucer. "While you could consider her current existence the third, these past five years have been an exile of her own making and her own choosing; and I have chosen to respect it thus far."

Leo pressed on with his matter, a righteous anger in every word though Ozpin couldn't help but question the motive behind them. "She crippled my predecessor for the vault key, she put the lives of everyone in this institution in jeopardy to steal the relic for her own selfish agenda. Fenix Grimnir deserved a far worse fate than banishment in my humble opinion."

Ozpin cocked an eyebrow staring up at the man with an unreadable expression. "I confess I'm surprised. All those years ago, if my memory serves me  _you_  were the one advocating for mercy. Yet now you're pushing for something far more severe years after both crime and punishment have been served."

Leo leaned back in his chair with no sign of relenting in his stance. "Time has revealed exactly how much damage her stunt has caused this once prestigious academy. She crippled Former Headmaster Pyre Raul that day. The man couldn't walk properly for the rest of his life."

Ozpin closed his eyes, nodding slowly. He understood the precisely the damages the assault thirteen years ago caused, and was well aware of their consequences. However, Fenix Grimnir was not only a phenomenally skilled huntress, but was the closest thing to a living breathing seer in this current generation of Huntsmen and Huntresses.

While she claimed its unreliability, her semblance allowed her to foresee the strands of causality linking present and futures events together. Such a thing would surely be an asset to his ongoing conflict against Salem - Enough so that he could overlook her past crimes. If only he had something he could barter with. Something as trivial as a pardon and a clean slate would not even tempt the woman into negotiation.

"You are correct, of course. I did have firm grounds to banish her at the time. Just as I believe she had firm reasons to undertake the actions that she did. Fenix was wounded in a way that neither time nor medicine could ever heal; pain and desperation overrode her reason and one cannot be blamed for acting as she did in that circumstance." Ozpin reasoned, sipping the tea and realising he'd found it less to his liking than he'd hoped. Though he masked his displeasure.

His next words were laced with a kind of sad sympathy that only one who knew such pain could offer. "Losing one's whole family is an experience most people never recover from. In an abstract way, I do admire that she still manages to live on at all, however spite-filled that existence is…"

Leo faltered for a moment before continued in his anger. "Regrettable though that may be, it's hardly a unique condition in the hunting lifestyle. It's a risk we take every day that we may never return to our loved ones. But, no matter how sympathetic the reason, it doesn't change the fact that her crimes are simply inexcusable Ozpin!"

Leo leaned forward, his face stern. "Our  _only_  saving grace that day was Fenix  _wasn't_  the Spring Maiden. Otherwise, a relic would have been stolen from its chamber and exposed to the world, then the world itself would have seeped into chaos! That's not even beginning to consider what Salem would have done had she discovered a relic was in the open."

"I was there, Leo. I do recall what happened." Ozpin reminded him gently, unperturbed by his contemporary's mounting emotional fervour. "However, I must chance the risk. Events have conspired against us, and I can no longer afford to have able bodied Huntsmen and Huntresses cast to the wayside, regardless of the severity of their crimes."

Leo pressed the matter, determination in every word. "The Council will never agree to have such a  _monster_  returned to their midst."

Ozpin placed the empty teacup on the table, crossing one leg over the other and folding his hands on his lap. "I can make a rather persuasive argument. But as I said, I no longer have the option of letting rogue elements remain as they are."

Leo held his gaze for a moment before finally relenting, though fury was still very clear in his dark eyes. "If that is what you think is best, then I know there's nothing I can do to dissuade you. But be warned, I will inform the Mistral Council and they will  _not_  allow her within our city borders without our expression permission."

"Impose whatever restrictions you wish if you feel it's necessary," Ozpin conceded. "However, I'm sure the Mistral council would be more preoccupied with the situation with Einherjar's frequent attacks."

It was a split second, but Leo seemed caught off-guard as if he hadn't understood Ozpin's meaning. The Haven Headmaster snapped out of it instantly before nodding. "Of course. Yes. Forgive me, as I said, I've been working far too hard lately."

The Beacon Headmaster remained silent, studying him carefully. "Are you sure you're alright Leonardo?"

"Yes, yes I'm fine. Just... exhausted." Leo supplied, raising a hand to his brow and wiping away some perspiration.

"I see. Then perhaps its best I take my leave. The last thing I wanted was to add to your burdens, my friend." Ozpin moved to stand, taking up his cane.

"No no, forgive my rudeness Oz. But you must understand that it will be a sign of what you'll face if you bring...  _her_  back into the fray." Leo warned severely.

"Then it is something I'll simply have to endure." Ozpin decided firmly. "I apologise for my inconvenience and thank you for your time, Leo."

Wrestling with his anger for a moment, Leo rose to his feet and spoke calmly. "Allow me to walk you out."

"That's quite all right, I know the way. Be well, Leo."

Ozpin left the office without another word, a deep frown etched on his features the second the threshold closed behind him. Suspicions were definitely raised from his brief conversation, and with them a feeling of forebode and dread. It built like a weight in the pit of his stomach the more he replayed the conversation in his mind. The more it did, the more it troubled him, and the more he found himself willing to trust that anonymous tip.

Leonardo was most definitely not acting like himself, and Ozpin wanted to know  _why_.

Perhaps it was karma, but the old Headmaster found himself cursing the insufferably cryptic warning. As he strode through Haven's corridors towards the front gates, he wondered who the sender was, where they were now and what was the reason behind the action. Was this benevolence or a trap? Was this part of some larger scheme in an attempt to gain leverage, or was this just sheer coincidence built on some other questionable activity Leo was indulging in on the side? Questions exploded in his mind, and Ozpin didn't like not having the answers.

Even more so, he disliked the rift steadily growing in the bowels of Beacon Academy's vault and questioned  _who_  triggered it. There was only one being other than himself who knew how to operate that gateway, knew the precise rituals and requirements that need be observed in unsealing its power and unleashing its potential. That person was Salem.

And the prospect of the witch using such a powerful arcane method shook him to the core. No matter how many times he had been defeated throughout the cycles, even Ozpin had loathed the idea of using it. But now, someone or some  _thing_  had unbarred those gates and passed through. A completely unknown entity was out there in the world, and the Beacon Headmaster felt frustrated in that he didn't know if it would be friend or foe.

He would prepare for both eventualities in the interim, but something told him that the answer to that particular mystery would reveal itself soon enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: I want to apologise for my tardiness in delivering this chapter. My laptop and main writing platform had to be taken in for repairs and the incident understandable stole the wind from my sails. I hope to improve on updates from now on.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 8**

Grimm were always prevalent in the Emerald Forest and the areas surrounding Beacon Academy.

It's what made the location so ideal for setting up a Huntsmen Academy. Whenever practical demonstrations or supervised lessons were required, there was a fresh supply of Grimm to practice the students' techniques and skills on.

At least, that was Summer's estimation of the place. Absently, she wondered if this was a trait shared across all academies, and decided she wouldn't be surprised if the answer was 'yes'.

As the time of the first years' initiation grew closer, more and more rumours circulated about the exact nature of their examination. While the details of those rumours ranged from mundane but realistic to laughably outrageous and bombastic, the common thread between them implicated some form of task in the Emerald Forest that required a team of four. In

ideal conditions, the examination would be simple in theory. And handling a few Grimm while avoiding the bulk of the main packs would have been child's play.

However, the arrival of the mega thunderstorm from hell only made the venture all the more treacherous, and would have doubtlessly agitated the local Grimm hordes.

A severe weather cell that had hugged the coast of Vale for the past few days had finally decided to make landfall. As if the skies themselves wished lend their aid to an already precarious pursuit.

With the storm came a palpable anxious energy which settled over the first years who'd gathered for breakfast in the great hall this morning. The trial set before them appearing more gruelling and grim by the passing hour. Given Beacon Academy ranked as the top combat school in the kingdom, some level of difficulty was expected in this challenge, and the horrid conditions only added to the classes' already strained tempers.

Rain hammered down like bullets against Summer's heavy white cloak, soaking her to the skin and she could feel the chilling winds slice to her bones through her thick woollen jumper.

Thunder crashed down in the distance, as if adding its own opinion to her internal musings, briefly illuminating the world in a brilliant flash of white light. Summer's silver eyes glanced up at the dark grey sky and saw another flicker of sheet lightning dance between the clouds, feeling each fork of light pressing a sense of urgency upon her.

Before the test began, Professor Glynda Goodwitch had directed the new initiates to line up on a row of etched steel plates bearing the symbol of Beacon Academy. Despite yelling, her voice was a barely audible whisper above the torrential storm they suffered through. The rainfall was so intense and thick that it was difficult to see more than ten feet past the cliff edge, let alone the forest below; all of it enveloped in a greyish-white curtain.

Professor Goodwitch sounded far graver than she did at the welcoming ceremony yesterday, the hard edge of legitimate worry and concern was impossible to disguise in her tone. More so, she severely warned caution, and informed them that if any hadn't returned within an allotted three-hour time frame then the professors would step in and retrieve the stragglers.

As she explained, the students trapped in such a circumstance would be granted a special consideration and allowed the opportunity to return in Beacon's next intake, but Summer received the distinct impression this particular amendment was not regularly employed.

Granted, this weather was so hostile it was probably lucky the Deputy Headmistress was letting them attempt the assessment at all today – if luck was the appropriate word.

 _I suppose it makes sense, we Huntsmen aren't always given the luxury of working in ideal conditions._  Summer thought gloomily to herself.  _So, I suppose it's good practice…?_

As she understood, the test would already require every last ounce of their strength, will, courage and strategic intelligence to face. All of which Summer possessed in ample supply.

When dealing with mindless monsters of enmity that is.

Slaying Grimm was something Summer was used to – enjoyed even.

Not in the way a bloodthirsty gladiator would happily take to the ring for their next brutal bout, or derive pleasure in a kill. But in the satisfaction of knowing that slaying just one more Grimm meant one more less caused havoc in the world.

In truth, she couldn't say that being a Huntress was always an aspiration of hers – she'd originally intended to use it as a means to an end, to establish a bond with and grow closer to her father. But over time, these past few weeks in particular, she was beginning to feel like it was a vocation she could dedicate her life too, even if she was finding it difficult to be entirely altruistic about the whole affair.

Summer wrapped her fingers around the stock of her sniper rifle, adjusting her grip as she moved cautiously through the foliage. Her lips pressed in a tight line as she thought through her next plan of action.

Fortunately, she and Taiyang had the foresight to reach out to potential teammates, and even managed to meet at a prearranged rally point.

If all went according to plan, then she would arrive there to see Taiyang and the Branwen twins in waiting.

Summer had never been good with crowds preferring to remain to her own devices, but meeting Taiyang was a stroke of luck. He seemed to possess just the right mix of understanding and overt sanguine humour that made him a genuine people person. While she was initially frustrated by his persistence, Summer was gladdened that he had reached out to her yesterday, and then reached out to others on her behalf. Specifically the Branwen twins.

Even if some of those attempts were interrupted by other people's boorish behaviour.

That didn't slow them down however. Another opportunity presented itself last night when she'd met Qrow in the armoury by chance. On a half-frightened impulse, she breached the subject of teams and extended a tentative offer while fully expecting a unilateral rejection.

After all, with so many other students attending, so many other people who appeared to be far better candidates for teammates than her. People who went to proper Huntsmen Academies, and had both academia and personal achievements to back them up. Against those credentials, what chance did a self-taught country bumpkin have of a positive response?

The absolutely last thing she expected was for him to agree so readily and easily to working together. Not only that but he'd casually dared her to come up with some sort of strategy for them to meet up and finish the initiation together. And while she was initially flustered, wrong footed by the challenge, Summer rose to the challenge coming up with a relatively simple but effective plan.

As soon as they landed, they would wait and hide for approximately twenty minutes then head due east to the cave-pocked cliff where a series of old ruins hugged the wall. At their centre was an ancient weathered and decayed watchtower which would serve as their primary rally point.

Once there, they would proceed together to the relic sight and retrieve their artefacts. If they encountered any other students who hadn't been partnered yet, they were to hide or close their eyes and move on to avoid pairing up.

The plan was simple enough, but convincing one person to follow through with it felt like pulling teeth.

This morning in the cafeteria Summer had approached Raven with an ice breaker, a stack of pancakes dripping in maple syrup, to try and establish a dialogue only to be rudely rebuffed.

No, Summer corrected herself. The  _pancakes_  were accepted, the dialogue was not.

After five minutes of going around in circles, it wasn't until her brother had arrived at the table and acted as a buffer that they'd started to achieve any sort of connection. And even then, Raven was utterly obstinate and rejected the notion of helping them.

Again and again, the red-eyed girl stubbornly refused despite her brother vouching earnestly for Summer, and encouraging her to listen. A pursuit that quickly turned just as exhausting for him as well.

Still, persistence won any battle, and Summer stubbornly refused to give up. Her steadfast determination fuelling her quiet petitions for Raven to see reason. It eventually came to a head after breakfast, when all four of them were in the Beacon's armoury.

"Are you an idiot?" Summer had asked quietly as Raven turned away scoffing one final peace offering. She was surprised at both her words and the resolve they carried.

"Excuse you?!" Raven spun on her heel incensed.

"Oh gods, here we go…" Summer heard Qrow groan and saw pinch the bridge of his nose in exasperation, leaning his back against a locker.

"Hey guys, we're still kinda in the middle of something. Don't you think we should stow it until after we've had our little jaunt through hell and back?"

Taiyang moved to insert himself between the two when Qrow's hand and a slight helpless shake of the head warned him off. His pleas went ignored by both teenagered girls as Summer continued to speak.

She straightened her back and looked the taller girl in the eye. "I asked if you were an idiot. Because you have to be; I don't see how else you wouldn't realise your best chance of getting through this test is by working together."

"I'm strong enough to take on entire damned forest on by myself! I don't need any help from you!" Raven declared, stalking up to Summer with a fury so palpable her eyes seemed to glow a bright red.

Summer had to take a second to realise they actually  _were_  glowing a vibrant red, and a stray thought wondered if it was part of Raven's semblance.

Still, despite the fearful chill that worked its way down her spine Summer stood her ground, her silver eyes narrowed in defiance. "I don't believe you."

"I don't care what you think!" Raven snapped, her fingers curling around her sword hilt in a threat.

Out of the corner of her eye, Summer could see Taiyang grow steadily more worried while Qrow's brow furrowed into a dark glare. His hand creeping to his own sword in response to the silent threat.

Summer considered her sniper rifle, feeling its heft before placing it in the holster on her lower back.

When she spoke next her words were calm. "Raven, if you took a second to stop and think you'd realise that the whole point of this test is to realise we shouldn't have to face it alone. Our greatest chance of survival, especially now, is by working together. It's not about how strong you are, it's about learning to work with others."

Raven leaned her weight on one leg with her arms still crossed and the scowl present, but some nearly impeccable flicker of emotion in her eyes let Summer know her words had hit their mark.

"Forgive me for saying, but I have exactly  _no_  reason to trust you. Either of you." She said at last, attempting to mask her indignation with a superior tone. "I don't even know you, you just insulted my intelligence, and yet you expect me to place my life in your hands. Why?"

"Because my life, our lives, on the line too." Summer reminded her, spreading her arms wide to gesture around them. "The whole point of this exercise is to form teams. To achieve something we couldn't hope to accomplish by ourselves. Work with us… please?"

Raven glared at her, then glared at her hand as Summer extended it out. She scoffed then shot a look to her brother. Qrow just shrugged in response. A minute later, Raven's scathing red eyes landed on Summer as she chewed her lip before scoffing and slapping the hand away rudely.

"Fine. What's your stupid plan?"

And like that, the last player joined their team. Though, Summer hesitated to think the next four years would be particularly easy, especially with Raven's bullheaded attitude.

A thunder clap nearby snapped Summer from her memory, sending a jolt of adrenaline through her veins which quickened her pace. The forest canopy provided a pitiful protection against the rain, but Summer didn't want to test how much punishment it would shield her from. Checking over her weapon, she weaved her way through thick foliage and muddy under scrub. It seemed the Grimm were content to leave her alone thus far. She hadn't spotted any tracks to follow, granted any signs of their presence were probably washed away with the weather.

Regardless, just because she hadn't seen a Grimm since landing didn't mean she could take things easy either. Checking her ammo cartridge, she exchanged the lightning dust bullets for an ice type pulled from a pouch on her belt. They'll be more effective for entrapping Grimm in these conditions.

Priming the bolt chamber, Summer carefully eased her way through a particularly thick brush and found herself wondering whether or not she was in a maze more than a forest, until she breached the line and entered a clearing.

But then, she caught a scent - heavily mottled by the rainfall, but she caught it nonetheless. Closing her eyes, she focused all of her concentration on expanding her senses to near superhuman proportion. On the furthest edge of her hearing through the patter of water, she could hear the distinct low register of a Grimm.

After pinpointing where she believed the sound originated, Summer reopened her eyes and held her rifle at the ready advancing cautiously towards her left.

Her instincts proved correct, and soon after sounds of steel slicing through the air mixed with the primal pained howls of Grimm being felled. Grunts and growls of exertion also weaved its way into the symphony of battle. By the time Summer found the noise, her heart lifted in relief, then froze in fear as a sinking feeling formed in the pit of her stomach.

Not fifty metres away from where she'd first heard the noise, Qrow was facing down a horde of Grimm. His dark hair slick and plastered to his brow with rain. His lips pulled back from his teeth in a predatory grin that bordered on the sadistic as his broadsword cleaved through Grimm limbs with ease. Like Raven earlier, his eyes burned red with and were filled to the brim with hatred and manic glee.

Summer watched finding herself more and more horrified in the obvious revelry and delight he was taking in meticulously hacking off limbs from the creatures, while effortlessly defending blows that would have sent anyone else their age sprawling.

Were it not for is controlled and precise moments, the measured swings and exacting manner he fought, Summer would have easily described this as a blood rage. The last remaining creature, an Alpha Ursa, charged him and Qrow effortlessly dodged, his sword dragging across the creature's flank in a blow deliberately too shallow to finish it off. She felt her fears grow when she realised he was enjoying this. This was a side completely at odds with what she'd seen last night.

Last night, he carried a genuine maturity about him, like an older brother or guardian figure. The person in front of her now clearly wanted only one thing; and that was to cause as much pain as he possibly could.

The Grimm howled and roared its agony, trying its best to regain its balance. With a flick of the wrist, the broadsword elongated into segments that rearranged themselves into a jagged curve. A line of thin red blades extended out and the handle expanded into a full staff as the weapon revealed its scythe form.

With ease, Qrow swing the scythe around, hooking the Ursa's right hind leg and pulled the handle trigger. The two buckshot shotguns fired, their boost with his strength easily cleaving through the bone carapace protecting both its legs.

The legless creature howled only to be silenced with the edge of the scythe hooked across its mouth from behind and the shotguns fired again, the recoil cleaving the top-half of the Ursa's head off. The scythe retracted back into its sword mode with a rough flourish and Qrow watched as the final Grimm disintegrated before him. The blank mask on his face completely at odds with the pure emotion mere seconds ago.

He spun around, his sword drawn back ready to strike. Summer couldn't help the scream, too paralysed with fear to do much else and he stopped dead. The unbridled anger giving way to an expression of horrified realisation. The sword dropped instantly.

"How much did you see…?" His puffed voice carried a quiet shame, Summer saw with a blink his burning red eyes returned to their earlier garnet colour.

"A… a little." she hesitated.

Qrow sighed, running a hand through his hair and looking decades older. "I, uh... I'm sorry you saw that. I… "

"Its okay." Summer tried to reassure him, unable to suppress the fearful tremor in her voice. Her grip tightened around her sniper rifle, but she couldn't stop the shaking.

Qrow turned away as if unable to bare looking at her anymore, only to resume his combat posture when a strange crackling red energy formed nearby. Long thin line of red energy, as tall as a person, formed only a few metres away from them that expanded into a bizarre pulsating portal. Without much ceremony, Raven walked through with her sword in one hand and a mystified looking Taiyang followed behind her.

"I thought we were supposed to meet by the watchtower?" Qrow offered teasingly, though he couldn't quite hide the strain in his tone.

"I was bored and you were taking too long. Oh… looks like you got the Rose too." Raven mused disinterestedly.

Sumer shook her head of her previous fear before nodding firmly. "Okay, we're all here right? Lets go get those relics and go home. I think we should still have at least two hours."

Taiyang pulled back a cover on his gauntlet and glanced at the watch underneath. "Closer to one hour. We need to bust our rumps, or we'll end up losing our spot to those other guys."

Qrow ran a hand through his soaked hair, "You're assuming those other guys manage to get through this weather and find the relics. My money's on fewer making it out than more."

"Holy crap, what happened to you?" Taiyang commented, looking at the muddied state of Qrow's outfit.

"Had a disagreement with a pack of Grimm…" He shrugged noncommittally, lacking any real emotion or enthusiasm behind his words.

"Let me guess, we should see the other guy right?" Taiyang clapped a hand on Qrow's shoulder in good humour, the latter gave a small hiss of pain and clutched it tightly.

"Agh! Watch it!" He grumbled, pulling away and inadvertently revealing the top of a wound.

It was now that Summer saw the three bloody claw marks that racked diagonally across his back, from the top of his shoulder blade to the small of his back.

She winced, voicing her concern. "Are you okay?!"

"Oh holy shit, how the hell did that happen?!" Taiyang demanded, all trace of levity vanishing as he peered the injury. "Dude, your aura's broken!"

"No shit, Sherlock." Qrow grumbled. "I'm fine."

"Its not like you to get so banged up. Are you slipping, you old fossil?" Raven leered meanly, affecting a haughty attitude as Qrow shot her a darkly furious look. "I knew your little Grimm slaughter spree was going to get you killed if you weren't carefully"

"Don't count on writing my epitaph any time soon, little sister. I've still got plenty of fight left in me." He declared.

"Guys, that's enough." Summer cut in, walking between them all. "We've got a job to do. Let's do it, okay?"

"Yeah, lets get going." Qrow agreed instantly, changing the topic away from his injury.

"But, are you-"

"Tai. Time's wasting. The sooner we get out of here, the sooner I can get this bandaged up and you can all stop pestering me about it." He said curtly.

The blonde brawler raised his hands in defence. "Gez man. Just tryin' to help. I'm just worried about dragging your hide out of here in one piece, no need to bite my head off!"

"I said enough." Summer said firmly. "Come on, we've got just an hour to go. And I don't think we've seen the last of the Grimm either. So keep your eyes peeled, watch each other's backs and lets get things done, yes?"

With that, the four set off into the forest towards the relic sight, determined to complete their objective and go home.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 9  
**

Teale's Oasis was an out-of-the-way tavern in the lower reaches of Vale's Capital City. A bright neon blue sign hung above the entrance to announce its presence, depicting a stereotypical albeit heavily stylised image of a palm tree and lake. It performed double duty as the reception to a four story hotel sharing the same name.

Even in the torrential rainfall and the occasional thunderclap from the storm shrouding the city, the light acted as a beacon for any passers by. Not that Fenix needed any assistance in finding the place. She knew this neck of Vale like the back of her hand and visited many times in her younger years -  _happier_  years.

While not exactly the most popular location for the blue-collar crowd thanks to the area's less than stellar reputation lately, it was still popular for the middle and lower classes. Offering just the right amount of exciting and dangerous to satisfy a craving.

The entrance was well-lit with an attendant stationed behind a wooden counter to serve as the hotel bookie. To the immediate left of him was a small passageway leading to the elevators that allowed residences and renters access to the upper floors. Immediately ahead was a heavy-set bouncer, who stood vigil at the tavern entrance. Fenix gave him a nod of greeting which he returned, and then chivalrously opened the door for her.

Electronic music pounded and flashing techno coloured beams of light mixed together in an overwhelming cacophony of sound and visuals, assaulting the Huntress as she entered.

Absently, Fenix thought it was a bit gaudy to have this music style offered to the patrons when it so obviously clashed against the country saloon decor and aesthetic. But what paid the bills, paid the bills she supposed.

Save for the bar that hugged the far right wall and the series of tables towards the back wall, the entire first floor was a tiled dance floor set before a raised stage where a DJ was performing. His music blasting from gargantuan speakers. Crowds of people were gyrating and cheering to the heavy beats, singing along to the song then demanding an encore as a choir when the music wound down to its conclusion.

To the left was a staircase that led to an upper landing with significantly better ambient light and more booths where patrons could converse or enjoy a meal in a less chaotic setting.

Feeling the heavy base vibrations throw her feet as she walked, Fenix easily weaved her way through the dancers and slid onto one of the empty bar stools, propping up her on her fist. There was quite the queue for bartender's service so she knew she'd be left alone with her thoughts for a short while at least.

Or rather, she'd hoped in vain that the overwhelming techno music would be loud enough to drown them out.

For years, her semblance had been practically dormant, save for glimpses of her eventual demise.

Fenix would be lying if she said she didn't welcome the embrace of the void, but it seemed whatever made her visions return, threw them into turbo speed and turned the typical accompanying headaches into splitting migraines. She couldn't help  _not_  seeing more and more things. Whether they be in the present, the distant future or somewhere in between. Not the coherent streams of images she used to when she was a younger woman, but impressions of things. Random strings that appeared to have no correlation to one another.

A skirmish against the Grimm. Another with another human, an elite-trained one at that, to protect someone. Fires consuming a city. Her former teammates fighting alongside her. Some brat with a broadsword glaring at her. That same brat in a group of teens following her and bantering with them as they traipsed through a modern city. Protecting another snort-nosed twerp against some ungodly elemental assault. And a series of ornate ancient objects whose purpose she could only guess at.

Frustrated by the bombardment of imagery, she groaned through tightly gritted teeth burying her face in her hand. Her eye squeezed closed as she tried to will away the visions with limited success.

_Gods, why can't I just see the void again?_

Lost in her laments, the Huntress didn't notice the presence behind her. Nor did she realised that a waitress had approached her until the young woman placed a napkin down in front of her and left a double shot of whiskey on top.

"I didn't order this." Fenix stated bluntly, her eye on the tumbler of whiskey.

The waitress smiled politely, indicating the upper landing with a slight gesture. She spoke loud enough to be heard over the cacophony. "From the gentleman upstairs. Black hair, glasses. Said you'd enjoy this particular brand of Mistrilese Whiskey."

Fenix threw a look over her shoulder. She couldn't quite get a decent angle from her stool, but the few tables she could see were almost barren save for one or two patrons. Neither matched the Waitress' description.

"Tell the  _gentleman_  he can keep it, I'm married." Fenix nudged the glass away disdainfully.

"He said you'd you say that, and I'm afraid he insisted." The Waitress supplied, her tone trembling slightly as she was clearly intimidated.

A deep scowl etched itself on Fenix's face and she closed her eye with an exasperated groan. Exhaled a heavy breath, her fingers reluctantly curled around the glass.

" _Cheers._ "

Pleased, the waitress nodded with the same pleasant smile she wore when Fenix first entered the tavern, before moving along to server other tables and patrons.

Fenix hoisted herself to her feet, taking the whiskey with her as she weaved her way back through the dance floor towards the stairs on the far side of the room.

She couldn't begin to guess who sent her the drink and had the feeling she wasn't going to enjoy finding out. The music faded with each ascending step. Her single crimson eye scrutinised every patron it landed on when she reached the top, sizing them up against the description until she spotted a patron in the far back corner.

Wearing a simple evening shirt and pants, glasses and short neatly trimmed hair like the Waitress had said was-

"Taliesin Grimnir…" Fenix breathed, disbelief plain on her face.

The man looked up, behind his reading glasses his familiar lavender eyes widened before he offered a pleasant smirk. It took a moment for Fenix to remember how her legs worked before she swallowed hard and moved, striding over to his booth and feeling an uncomfortable weight form in the pit of her stomach.

"Fenix." He greeted back with a slight nod, and looking for all the world pleased to see her. "It's been a long time."

"Five years." Fenix answered curtly. "But who's counting?"

Taliesin chuckled quietly before gesturing across from him, offering her a seat. Fenix slid into the booth opposite him, placing her whiskey down on a coaster and let her hand rest on the table top. After a moment, she took her glasses off and folded them into her jacket breast pocket. Her crimson eye levelled at him suspiciously.

Taliesin pushed a plate of finger food across the table, panko covered prawns and squid served with sides of dip. "Have something to eat. You've had nothing since the minute you sat down."

"I just got here." Fenix pointed out, but her opposite seemed amused by this and shook his head.

"Nope, you've been here for over ninety minutes already." Fenix blinked, then frowned at the correction. "Still like to get lost in your head for hours on end. I'm glad to see at least that hasn't changed."

"I'm not. It pisses me off." Fenix scoffed.

"And still quick with a barbed response, I'm glad to see that hasn't changed either. You've still got your fire." Taliesin complimented, plucking a bit of squid from the plate and plopping it in his mouth. "So, would my sister-in-law like to tell me what she's doing back home?"

"That's my line. I was going to ask what the hell you were doing here…  _but_  since you asked first, I came here for the mate's rates." Fenix answered, running her finger over the rim of her glass. "But I haven't seen Celeste Teale at all this evening, so I don't think there's much chance of that. Yourself?"

Taliesin pointed to the railing in the general direction of the front entrance. "Because I knew one day, when you wanted a break from your revenge streak, you'd come traipsing through those doors and you'd need my help."

Fenix raised an eyebrow, it was her turn to be amused. "And I thought I was the one with the foresight semblance. How did you know I'd come back? Didn't you hear me say I wasn't planning on it last time we spoke?"

Taliesin nodded, conceding the point as he plopped another calamari ring in his mouth and chewed. "True. I do recall you screaming that rather emphatically. But you walked through those doors and now you're sitting here. Which makes me think you've found a reason to keep yourself from jumping off the mortal coil."

"More a curiosity than any particular reason." Fenix admitted, sipping her whiskey.

"Let me guess, your semblance came back with a vengeance and you're just a tad bummed out about it?" Taliesin leaned in with a conspiratorial look on his face.

Fenix shot him a suspicious look. "And how exactly would you know that?"

"What exactly did you need the Winter Maiden for?" Taliesin inquired casually, dodging her question and picking another bite of fish.

Undisguised shock showed on Fenix' scarred face, her jaw went slack before she huffed irritably. "Helena called you."

"Yep."

"Ugh, should've known."

Taliesin laughed at her indignation. "What do you expect from the woman? You really thought Sparks was going let something as big as  _you_  showing up on her front door slide without telling anyone else about it?"

"Ugh, I'm going to kill her…" She grumbled under her breath. "So, is this the part where you offer to 'help'?"

"Yep!" Taliesin chirped. "Help you realise what a  _stupid_  damned idea your plan is."

Fenix growled once more. "I don't recall saying anything about a plan."

"It's not that hard to figure out what's going on in your head if you look at the simple facts: rescuing a young maiden, leaving her with your second for protection and training, lying to Oz about it, previous history of going after the relics." Taliesin listed them off on his fingers then shot Fenix a disappointed scowl. "Really. You'd have to be thick as two planks sideways to not put two-and-two together."

"Technically, I didn't lie. Nickel Mayweather  _did_  die, I just happened to find her successor nearby." Fenix scoffed, shaking her head. "... Have I really become  _that_  predictable?"

"No, it's just not up to par with your previous work. Like you thought up the plan in five minutes..."

"Two minutes." She mumbled. "I'll admit I'm a bit rusty on the strategic side of things."

Taliesin considered his drink and took a long draft. "If you're really  _that_  concerned about the war effort, then you should come back Fenix."

"You say that like we're not all fighting the same enemy." Fenix said propping her chin on her fist. "Pray tell, Taliesin. What value would there be for me to come back right now? It's just the same thing day in and day out. More Huntsmen being trained, sent out and dying. Right now, I'd rather be on my own little 'vengeance kick' than be a part of the literal definition of insanity."

"Then ask yourself; What value is there in taking a relic from the vault?" Taliesin countered. "Thirteen years ago I get that - You have absolute  _no_  idea about their significance or what the hell they were. But  _now_? I would have thought you knew better! Nicking off with a relic? It puts a relic in unnecessary danger by exposing it to Salem. The demon queen from hell who'd happily swoop in to nab it for herself, and _you'd_  be the one lighting the fuse on a whole world of hurt for the rest of us."

Fenix tapped her fingers impatiently on the table. "I figure the mere rumour of a threat to the relics alone would light a fire under old man Oz's ass, and he'd finally make some damned progress. Something other than staying locked in this stupid decades-long stalemate. You  _know_  its not going to last forever."

Taliesin frowned, giving her a strange look. "I don't think you understand the definition of 'stalemate'. But, you realise that if you really went through with it, you wouldn't be breaking a stalemate - You'd be dropping a nuke on it and salting the earth afterwards. Once a relic's on the playing field, that's the point of no return."

"What's the only saying? Spend big to get big." Fenix shrugged. "Sometimes you have to sacrifice an important piece to achieve a greater victory."

Taliesin groaned, rolling his eyes. "The world isn't run on business economics, nor is it a game to make or break rules as you please."

"Most corporate bigwigs would mostly likely want to disagree with you." Fenix dismissed. "So what's your suggestion?"

" _Come back_." Taliesin affirmed. "You're an honest-to-gods Seer. You can literally see all possible futures. Do you have any idea how  _valuable_  that kind of insight is? Not to mention the plethora of other tricks you've gotten hidden up your sleeves. They do seem to  _spring_  up all around you."

"You've overstating my abilities." Fenix glowered bitterly at her brother-in-law, her crimson eye pointedly looking at the stump of her left arm. It ached. "Yeah, 'valuable' indeed. I think we've established my semblance is unreliable at best. Tell me Tali - if I could see so far, if my visions were so  _perfect_ , then why I couldn't save my family?"

Taliesin remained silent at this, not quite sure how to offer a rebuttal.

"That's what I thought." Fenix leaned back in her chair, polishing off her drink.

Taliesin sighed crossing his arms in bitter disappointment. "So that's it then. Rather than fight the good fight against the enemy that will end all life as we know it, you want to waste your time and life pursuing petty vengeance? I know what you've been doing for the last five years, O Butcher of Bandits."

"They were your family too!" Fenix's rage-filled tone came from tightly clenched teeth, her fist slamming against the table top. "Your niece, your nephew, your brother. You're left the game, you're safe in the kingdom walls playing the part of an Undertaker, while  _I'm_  the one out there making sure no other families has to suffer like ours did!"

"I grieve for them too. But I don't let that grief rule my actions. Death is a consequence of life!" Taliesin snapped back, suddenly furious. "I'm sorry I couldn't be there to help protect them, but what do you think they'd say if they could see you now? My nephew and niece wouldn't see the mother that doted on them, nor my brother his loving wife. All they'd see an angry twisted monster."

The words struck their mark and Fenix took them like a physical blow, before anger surged forward and her crimson eye took on a faint luminescence. She shot to her feet. "Well then, isn't it fortunate that the dead have  _no_  say in the affairs of the living. Their troubles are  _done,_ and I'll grieve for them as I damn well please!"

With that, she turned, replacing her glasses and stalked away absolutely fuming. "Thanks for the drink, Taliesin."

 

* * *

 

Like always, Summer woke with the crack of dawn and her heart lurched in panic at the unfamiliar surroundings and smells. She bolted around right to peer around and it took her a second to register this was a dorm room at Beacon Academy. And with that, the memory of yesterday evening came rushing back.

That's right... she'd been put on a team. Not only that, but she'd been made the  _leader_  of that team. STRQ. Team STRQ. The rest of the evening had passed in a blur after that announcement, Summer being too stunned by the appointment to process much else.

 _Well, first thing's first._  Summer quickly dashed to the bathroom and took a quick shower to freshen up for her first day at Beacon Academy.

Her fears of inadequacy over the past two days regarding the test were replaced with an entirely new set of anxieties. What if she wasn't a good leader? What if she couldn't get along with her team? What if she wasn't strong enough to keep up with  _them_? What if? What if? What if? Her mind ran at a hundred miles an hour, trying to answer questions and soothe her internal doubts and fears. She was a leader now, and as leader she had to take responsibility, to represent her team and to be the foundation they stood on.

Which... was understandably a lot easier said than done.

Summer sighed, her shoulders slumping as she whined quietly. She wasn't sure she was ready for any of this. Hell, all she wanted was to make a few new friends and enjoy herself. But there was really nothing she could do about it now, except suck it up and keep moving forward.

With her doubts, she could almost hear her father's carefree tone laugh them off and spout some old cliche.  _You know what they say, my little rose pup! Bite off more than you could chew, then chew like hell!_

Thinking of her father made her chuckle, his imagined humour already setting her mind at ease as she turned on the hot water. Nothing cured sour spirits than a nice refreshing shower in the morning, and Summer was eager to jump in.

When she emerged from the bathroom with her hair brushed back into a short ponytail, teeth cleaned and wearing her brand new Beacon Academy uniform with her cloak pinned to the shoulders, Summer was pleased that her teammates were up as well.

At least two of them were. Taiyang was up and doing a few morning push ups that Summer wouldn't mind spectating one bit. Raven on the other hand was still working her way to her feet yawning loudly before stalking to her brother's bed, where Qrow was still prone with his face in the pillow. She resembled a zombie more than a teenager. The dorm had four beds lined up with the window and last night the room was divided in half, the boys on the right and the girls on the left. Summer slept on the left most bed against the wall, Raven by the window. Taiyang took the second from the right and the last bed was for Qrow.

"Hey Qrow. Wake up. If I have to be up then so do you, you lazy arse." Raven ordered, shifting her weight on one leg and using her foot to nudge Qrow in the ribs. He grumbled and whined, pulling his pillow over his head.

"I'm not repeating mysel-" When she prodded again his hand whipped around and clipped her ankle with a hard slap, knocking Raven off balance enough that she stumbled back into Tai's bed behind her. The younger Branwen twin glowered at him before examining her ankle, a deep red mark forming there. "Ow! You asshole! That friggin' hurt!"

"Qrow. Get up, we have classes." Summer told him in a polite yet firm tone. Qrow made no apparent effort to reply, instead the sound of snoring filled the room.

Did… did he just fall back asleep on them?

Taiyang sat back on his haunches glancing at his male teammate, then to the two others in the room flashing a scheming grin.

"Ahem, please allow me to handle this Summer." Taiyang said as he leaped to his feet only to sweep down low in a vainglorious bow. "I know  _exactly_  how to wake up stubborn layabouts like him, no sweat. Trust me, this works  _all_  the time with my kid brother and sister."

"Ya know what. Go for it, I don't give a crap." Raven declared and moved to find a uniform in one of the drawers from the bedside table attached to her bed. Summer shot him a worried look.

"Just don't hurt him? Any more than he already was yesterday?" She grinned awkwardly, hoping this wasn't going to end too badly.

Taiyang nodded then walked to his teammates bed and cleared his a split second, he ripped the sheets and Summer swore Qrow just squawked at the top of his lungs. "Hey Qrow! Wake the  _fuck_  up! Its already past noon, get your  _life_  together!"

"Did… did he just  _squawk_?" Summer blinked, asking Raven who shrugged vaguely.

"Wha - what the fu-!" Qrow scowled at Taiyang who grinned a cheshire's grin. "Oh ha-ha, real funny, you jerk."

"Huh. Effective. And thank your maker he doesn't sleep buckass nude anymore…" Raven commented, amused by her twin shouting her name in irritation, as she continued getting ready for class, tying her enormous mass of hair back in its typical tail and fixing her bandana in place.

Qrow yawned, stretching out his shoulder. "Pain in the ass little sisters…"

"W-well, now that you're up." Summer interjected tentatively, trying her very best to remove that image from her mind. "Maybe you should think about getting dressed? We've got classes this morning."

Qrow rubbed some sleep out of his eye, his half-asleep brain not quite processing what she said and cocked his head to the side. "I don't have to go to classes." He murmured.

It took a moment before the gears seemed to click, his shoulders sagged and he burned his face his hand. "Ah shit, I have to go to classes, don't I…? Gods, this is so not worth it..."

"Yep!" Summer chirped. "Now come on! We don't want to be late for our first day! We need to make a really good impression, team!"

"Uh… speaking of," Taiyang chimed in, a sudden worried look on his face. "Are you… ya know, in trouble or anything? For what you did to that Forest guy the other day?"

Qrow stretched his arms above his head, feeling a crack in his neck and another in his spine. "Probably. But Goodwitch said she was suspending punishment 'til Ozpin got back. I mean,  _technically_ , we weren't students when it happened so…"

"But... you know, we were still in Beacon's duty of care...?" Summer offered uncertainly.

"Yeah, its..."

"It's complicated?" Taiyang finished and Qrow nodded covering another yawn with his hand.

"It's your fault for getting caught in the first place." Raven scolded him haughtily. "Didn't our caretaker always say to have an out in fight situations. To always have an exit strategy no matter the situation and no matter the cost."

Taiyang sent her a strange look. "I don't think I'd like your caretaker."

"You really wouldn't." Qrow stated bluntly.

"Well," Summer began tentatively looking out the dorm window towards the clear blue morning sky. "When you consider how bad the weather was yesterday, and how hard it was to make the return journey so we could complete initiation, its possible Qrow might have saved that boy's life?"

"Odds are." Qrow agreed nonchalantly.

"And what good does that do? If he wasn't strong enough to survive initiation, then he didn't deserve to survive period.." Raven dismissed casually with a shrug. Taiyang and Summer stared at her before sharing an unnerved look.

" _Dark._ " Taiyang stated.

Summer pushed away her dark thoughts awkwardly trying to veer the conversation onto a different topic "... L-Lets not think about it, okay! It's a new day with new possibilities! Let's enjoy it for all its worth, okay?"

"Ugh, how can someone so damn chipper exist?" Raven grumbled. "Do they put something in the coffee here, or are you naturally this damn bubbly?"

"Nope! I'm always like this. And you know it takes less muscles to smile than it does to frown." Summer cheered and Raven groaned, shaking her head.

"Can confirm. It takes more muscles to frown like a grumble bum." Taiyang teased, grinning and moving to the wardrobe.

"Then my face is getting a workout. Get over it." She snapped.

"Raven, they're trying to be nice. Stop being difficult." Qrow told his twin, punctuating his words with another yawn as he finally hoisted himself off his bed. "A'right, where's a damn uniform…?"

"Hey, uh, you twins - you're pretty new to the Kingdoms, ain't ya?" Taiyang asked absently as he ruffled through his draw, a mischievous glint in his eye as a sneaky little joke dawned upon him.

"Yeah, what of it?"

"Nothin' special. I was just wondering if you knew that the uniform here was a kilt?" Taiyang asked to Qrow in particular, somehow able to keep his tone even.

"A  _kilt_." Qrow echoed.

"Yeah, a kilt." Taiyang said as a matter of fact, producing a skirt that belonged to Beacon's female uniform set. Summer took a deep breath, rolling her lips to stop herself from giggling. "What do ya say, you wanna give it a shot? Totally allowed in the school rules and all."

Qrow glanced between Taiyang then Summer and rolled his eyes with a crooked smirk, amused rather than insulted by their antics. Then his shoulders bounced as he started to chuckle. Before long, he buried his face in his hand guffawing at them both as if they just landed the best punchline in the world. He laughed so hard his cheeks went red and tears formed in his eyes. "I needed that... I really did."

It took a few seconds for him to regain his ability to speak coherently and he whipped the tears off his face. "Y... Y-Yeah,  _no!_  That's a skirt. Are you kidding me? Do you really think I'm really  _that_  easy to doop? Rae and I might have grown up in the country, but we're not ignorant. I'm sure as hell not at any rate."

"Could've fooled me." Raven chimed in and Qrow shot a glare her way.

Qrow dismissed her with a wave of the hand, a sly glint in his eye as he spoke to Tai. "How about we make things…  _interesting_ for our first day? What do you say?"

Taiyang crossed his arms and puffed out his chest with a challenging smirk of his own. "Oh  _really_? Do I hear a wager being offered? If so, I'm listening..."

"A hundred Lien." Qrow declared. "A hundred Lien to whomever can get through the entire first day wearing the skirt."

"And if its a  _draw_?" Taiyang prompted, stroking his chin with intrigue.

"Then we'll go for as many days as we have to, until one of us gives in to shame and the public embarrassment." Qrow replied smugly.

Summer tried to intervene. A lighthearted prank was one thing, but she had a feeling this was going to keep escalating if she didn't nip it in the bud. "Uh… guys, this was supposed to be a joke, don't you think you're getting too far-?"

"You're on!" Taiyang thrust his hand out and Qrow shook it with a confident smirk.

"Oh  _please_  no." Summer's shoulders sagged.

Raven scowled at the two, irritation clear in her tone. "What are you two doing? Aren't you supposed to be taking a combat school a little bit more seriously than this? It's a warrior academy, damn well act like it."

She too was ignored by her male teammates.

"Be warned buddy, I have  _no_  shame. Absolutely none at all." Qrow announced cheerfully.

"I hope you've got the confidence back that up, Birdbrain. I'm gonna strut my stuff! Look out ladies~! And at the end of the day, I'm gonna be a hundred Lien richer." Taiyang grinned, quickly going through the drawers for a girl's uniform, shoving one to Qrow in the process.

"Are you fuc-" Raven groaned, burying her face in her hands. "Dear goddess, they're children. They're goddess damned  _children_! It is possible for me to change teams to people who aren't so damned annoying, or is it too late by this point?"

Summer looked anywhere but where the boys and their  _very_  impressive physiques stood getting changed, wringing her fingers and muttering meekly to herself as a light blush coloured her cheeks. "... I'm not gonna complain."

The female Branwen twin growled and threw her hands up in exasperation, stalking out of their dorm.

"Well…" Summer offered with a slight shrug. "At least they're both secure in their masculinity…"

Taiyang, apparently, was  _not_  secure enough to last past recess.  _Especially_  after they spent morning practice working on their landing strategies.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for my tardiness in this week's update. We've had some issues with the family recently, and it disrupted my concentration somewhat with this story. I'll endeavour to have my schedule return to its more regular update pattern next week.
> 
> Thanks and regards,
> 
> Aurora313

**Chapter 10  
**

When Ozpin returned to Beacon Academy on the Friday afternoon, a strange sleek airship had occupied one of the adjacent landing platforms at Beacon's Docks.

It was an unfamiliar design that could have only been of a customised nature – an assumption proven correct when he glimpsed the lavish insignia stretching across the airship's forest green hull. The name printed in bright gold paint read Forrest Dust Manufacturers and was trailed by a symbol.

At a cursory glance, one could easily mistake the collection of jagged triangular shapes as mountain peaks and a river flowing underneath, which joined seamlessly with the underlined company name. But upon a closer inspection those swirly lines resemble tree trunks, and the triangles as silhouettes of a pine forest.

While his own business kept him from answering his scroll, Ozpin was aware of the numerous messages left on his voicemail and texts sent by his Deputy, Glynda Goodwitch. The time-stamps of many listed them as from the night after he departed for Mistral and the days immediately following. The Headmaster would have responded to them sooner had the CCT network not been temporarily disabled for its routine maintenance check.

Regardless of the primary towers status, Ozpin also had the misfortune of travelling through low-signal areas. And when he did attempt to answer one of Glynda's hails, the signal was patchy to the point of unintelligible to describe it generously.

Once he'd returned to the Kingdom's borders, Ozpin reached out to Glynda himself and was made aware of a situation presenting itself in one of the new students. A young man claiming to have information on future events, whom also took credit for the warning regarding the assault on the Winter Maiden, and the warning against trusting Leo with that information. He'd also been made aware of the rather bothersome situation that occurred the night before initiation, and the prominent business personality the incident agitated.

The former points captivated Ozpin's attention. If this young man was truly had information from the future, then one of two possibilities followed. First; this young man had a seer-like semblance, meaning Ozpin wouldn't have to negotiate with Fenix Grimnir, nor be forced to rely on her visions, which allowed the woman to remain to her own devices as she preferred. Or the second possibility; this was the individual responsible for unsealing the Rift that dwelled within Beacon's vault.

If the latter option was the correct theory, then Ozpin could take a slight relief knowing that it seemed they were on the same side. But it was a small comfort against the potentially disastrous threat that writhed under Beacon. While he could theorise and speculate all evening, that wouldn't bring him any close to the truth. So, the Headmaster would reserve concrete judgements until he could speak to the youth face to face and gain a measure of his character.

Crossing Beacon's grounds in quick measured strides, Ozpin made his way to Beacon Tower. When he'd arrived at his office perched on top, Professor Goodwitch stood behind the Headmaster's desk in furious heated discussion with a tall man wearing a finely tailored green suit with golden accents. His close cropped hair was dark brown with scattered grey and the deep lines of age formed under his eyes.

Next to him was a young man similarly dressed in green and brown formal wear, albeit with his left arm cradled in a black sling. The man was Taylor Forrest, President of the company by the same name, which undoubtedly meant that the youth was his son Arthur if Ozpin recalled correctly.

The last member of the heated exchange was a young man with messy jet black hair, red eyes and wearing the Beacon Academy uniform. His hands in his pockets and he ignored Arthur's barely concealed snarl, wearing a blank-faced expression as if the entire affair hadn't interested him. If Ozpin remembered the application list correctly, this young man was named Qrow Branwen.

All faces turned to him as the door chime marked his entry and the argument temporarily fell to silence. Arthur continued to glare venomously at his counterpart, Glynda allowed a small relief to show while subtle emotions played across Qrow's. Too many for Ozpin to catch in that brief second before Mr Forrest broke the silence.

"Professor Ozpin." Taylor Forrest greeted gruffly, fiddling with his cuff links. "I was beginning to wonder if you'd  _bother_  grace us with your presence. Given your menial seemed content on scraping the bottom of the barrel for any excuse to delay a resolution to this issue."

Ozpin didn't miss the flicker of disgust on the red-eyed boy's face nor the matching expression that flashed across Glynda's. Still, he raised his hands in a placating gesture.

"I've been made aware of the situation yes." Ozpin answered calmly, putting forward his best diplomatic tone as he crossed the office and circled around his desk, taking a seat and leaning his cane against his armrest. "I'm certain that we can all agree with incident was precisely that - an unfortunate incident, and that we can reach some kind of compromise."

"The 'compromise' is that I want this ill-mannered cretin expelled from the school for what he did to my son." Forrest senior demanded, shoving a ringed finger towards Qrow who barely managed to hide his eye roll.

"That decision isn't for you to make, President Forrest. Don't mistake this academy for one of your boardrooms." Glynda Goodwitch cut in sternly. Ozpin raised a hand to calm her.

"Very well, but let us get to the heart of the matter first. Your name is… Qrow Branwen, is it not?" Ozpin looked to the teenager who nodded once, "Would you like to tell me your version of events?"

"There's no need for this Ozpin." Taylor cut across furiously as Qrow opened his mouth to speak, earning a cold hard look from the young man. "Right now, the boy's lucky I haven't contacted the police and decided to press charges!"

Ozpin folded his hands on top of his desk. "Then I thank you for the restraint you've shown thus far. However, every story invariably has three sides; Your son's side, Mr Branwen's side and the truth. I would like to get to the truth before I pass any judgements on what may or may not end  _both_  of these boys' careers in their infancy."

Arthur levelled a look of smug satisfaction at Qrow before a look of confusion passed across his features. "Forgive me Professor, but I'm afraid I must have misheard you just now. You just said 'the both of us'?"

"Well I'll be damned. Look whose been listening." Qrow said unhelpfully.

"I did say that. I'm sure that Professor Goodwitch impressed upon you both the seriousness of your deeds and the charges. You, Mr Forrest," Ozpin levelled a hard look towards Arthur who withered under the gaze. "-attempted to assault another student outside of sanctioned duelling hours. And Mr Branwen, while I appreciate your restraint, you also robbed Mr Forrest the opportunity of participating in initiation through your actions, thus preventing him from earning a place at this academy."

Ozpin told them, his fingers templed before him meeting Taylor Forrest's gaze. "I cannot discount that it would be a shame to loss a student like Mr Branwen. Not only did he pass the preliminary exam with flying colours, but he ranks among the upper percentile of his peers in terms of academic performance so far. But I can offer you my personal assurances that measures will be taken to ensure an event like this doesn't happen again."

Ozpin continued. "That being said. I cannot allow this action to go unpunished. Therefore, I propose a compromise. As your son was robbed of his opportunity to study at this academy thanks to an injury, I propose that Mr Branwen be placed on three weeks Academy Suspension."

"I want him exp-" Arthur snapped furiously before his father's hand shot across to cut him off.

"Quiet, boy." He snapped and for a long two minutes, he chewed his lip and scowled at the headmaster, clearly hoping to use his intimidating stature to silently bully the huntsmen for a more severe punishment. Not only did Ozpin not budge, but he offered a kind polite smile and the company president relented.

"Three weeks academic suspension." Taylor Forrest grunted in begrudging agreement, though he was clearly affronted by the lack of a more severe punishment. "And my boy better get a guaranteed position in your next intake, Ozpin. Or I will have a serious discussion with the council."

"Thank you for your time, President Forrest. Save travels back home."

Clearly the president disagreed, but Ozpin felt that denying a student their education for nearly a month punishment enough. While the incident was unfortunate, there was still time to change this youth's ways. Of course, that was assuming he _was_  just an ordinary youth. Ozpin had his eyes fixed sceptically on Qrow who watched the departing business tycoon and his son, waiting until the elevator door was closed and the indicator above showed they were more than halfway down the tower.

"I only saved your kids life. No need to thank me, you pretentious jackass." Qrow grumbled bitterly before running his hand through his hair.

"While I'm beginning to believe you did at that, I don't condone your behaviour. You did retaliate and that certainly didn't help the situation. There were other ways you could have gone about this." Glynda supplied, crossing her arms.

"Don't complain about me when  _he_  threw the first punch." Qrow huffed petulantly, shoving his fists in his pockets as he lamented. "That's the one thing I hate about being stuck in a body at this age; I have to dance around childish bullshit like rules, curfew and academia to do my damn job… but, that's just the bed I made and I'll just have to lie in it."

Glynda cocked an eyebrow, halfheartedly glaring at the younger man. "In that vein, would you please explain why you tricked your teammate into wearing the skirt?"

Qrow snickered meanly, shaking his head. "Okay, that part was just for fun."

Glynda groaned. "Spectacular. So the childishness isn't just a front."

"Nope." Qrow smirked, as unrepentant as he sounded.

"If I might interrupt?" Ozpin cut it, a trace of amusement in his tone.

The young man turned to Ozpin. There was a flicker in his expression, the same as earlier, where dozens of emotions subtly played across his features as if he was trying to convince himself that he wasn't seeing a ghost. Most apparent of all was relief. "I'm sorry for all the trouble and the theatrics, Ozpin. At the time, there was really not a lot of choice in the matter but I appreciate you saving my hide on this one."

"I assume you'd like to explain your version of events?" Ozpin offered patiently.

Qrow scratched the back of his head, clearly mulling over his next words. "My version of events... yeah, that's one way to put it. We've got a lot that we need to talk about, Oz. First of all, I need to know if the Winter Maiden is safe."

Ozpin's stoic expression faltered for a split second before he'd made the connection. "So, I  _can_  safely assume you were the one who sent us the warning regarding the Maiden, and towards Leo in particular?"

"That's me." Qrow confirmed, quickly crossing the room and standing before the Headmaster's desk.

"Then it's reasonable to assume you're working against Salem and her ilk."

"More than that, I work for you." Qrow gestured to the man, then added as an afterthought. "Or I will? I did? I don't know, this time-travel crap has always done my head in and I'm getting a migraine trying to get the pronouns straight."

"And yet bizarrely, its hardly the strangest thing I've witnessed in my lifetime." Glynda chimed in.

"Ain't that the truth." Qrow agreed, gesturing to her. "Hell, the other you wasn't surprised either. If I had to pin it down, I'd say she was bored by the whole concept than anything else."

The Headmaster considered him carefully, searching his expression for any signs of deceit. For now, he seemed completely honest, and truthfully Ozpin had no reason to distrust him. Since he warned them of Leo and the Maiden, it seemed only fair to repay that favour.

Ozpin rose from his seat and approached the coffee table in the corner, pouring out three mugs of coffee. He had a feeling that this would be a long night, and that they were all going to need it. "To my understanding, the current Winter Maiden was slain in battle. If this Melinda was the next candidate in line, then I'm afraid I've heard nothing after that."

"Damn it…" Qrow hissed under his breath, his eyes closing in frustration. He opened them again when Ozpin offered him a mug of coffee, which he took gratefully.

Ozpin offered the second mug to Glynda who nursed it in both hands. "May I ask of her significance to you? Did you have a personal investment in this Melinda?"

Qrow halfheartedly shrugged with a disappointed expression. "Honestly? Next to nothing. At least, beyond the typical import of being a Maiden - I was just hoping I could spare her from a…  _grizzly_ end."

Letting the silence hang for a moment, Ozpin took a slow drink from his own mug of coffee then placed it down on the coaster to the left of his desk. "Glynda has informed me you have a rather interesting tale to tell. Perhaps you should start at the beginning, and perhaps you can help solve a riddle of mine."

Qrow sighed heavily, slumping down in the guest chair adjacent from Ozpin's desk. "I wouldn't even know where to  _start._  I lived it and it still sounds certifiably insane."

"More insane than claiming to be from the future while still appearing nothing more than a teenager?" Ozpin raised an eyebrow with the barest smirk and Qrow snorted.

"Only about as insane as a old wizard constantly reincarnating across the aeons." Despite himself, Ozpin let out a short chuckle to concede the point.

Qrow vaguely gestured downwards, "To be honest, the only reason I was able to pull this whole time-travelling stunt was because I inherited the Wizard's power."

The remark caused Ozpin to frown, he folded his hands on his desk and scrutinised Qrow. "You?"

"I know, I know. Ex-Bandit from the middle of Arima is the last person you'd expect right?" He joked in a self-deprecating tone.

The Headmaster took it in stride. "In all truth, you've be very surprised the kinds of people who've inherited this mantle before I did. Now, perhaps you should start with how you inherited it in the first place? Unlike the maidens, this curse doesn't grant me the luxury of choosing my next host."

"I imagine that'd make things easier if you could." Ozpin's gaze was still fixed on Qrow. "It was a desperate last minute thing. The pipsqueak that they were supposed to go to - well, it didn't end pleasantly for the kid. Despite him being pretty quick on the uptake, things went south pretty damned fast. As soon as the enemy caught wind you were back, we had to contend with more lackeys, more Grimm like stuff from my worst nightmares and worse. Until eventually he was taken out by none other than Salem herself."

Ozpin closed his eyes, lamenting the poor soul. "And so the powers went to you?"

"Not exactly. More… like we hijacked the process, I suppose…" Qrow shrugged again, sipping the coffee once more. "We managed to bring the kid back to a safe harbour in Atlas; lost more people than I'd like to admit to do it. But when we realised that he couldn't be saved, we knew we couldn't lose the Wizard a second time and we didn't have the time to find the next poor sap in line. So I volunteered."

" _Volunteered_?"

"Yeah, it, uh, … the mechanics were explained to me, but the short version is James Ironwood's scientists managed to invent a device that could capture aura, and figured out how cram it into something or  _someone_  else." Qrow winced, gripping his mug tightly. "I promise it's  _exactly_  as pleasant as it sounds."

"That's... that's an abomination." Glynda declared disdainfully.

"Time and circumstance, Glynda." Qrow gestured to himself. "Case and point. We didn't have time for 'ethics' and 'morality'. We were desperate, we knew the risks and we went for it."

For the longest time, Ozpin was quiet but a mildly troubled expression passed over his features before he gave voice to his thoughts. "And that's how you knew about the Rift in the vault, and why you tricked Salem into helping you open it?"

Qrow gave him a serious look. "You ordered me to do it."

"Excuse me?" Undisguised shock crossed the Headmaster's features, breaking his otherwise unflappable demeanour.

"You ordered me - ordered  _us_  - to open the Rift and pass through. You also said that if we managed to get through and explain that to you, it would be a pretty damning sign of how badly everything hit the fan."

Ozpin stood up slowly, a grave expression on his face as he turned to look out the wall-spanning windows towards the now twilight sky.

He had ordered this? That changed  _everything_. "Would you mind elaborating on what you mean by that? And please explain exactly what state the world was in that I would order this sacrifice from my lieutenants?"

Qrow seemed hesitated, briefly meeting Ozpin's gaze before his own eyes became downcast with shame. Clearing his throat, Qrow furrowed his brows as he gathered his thoughts and began relaying his story in exacting detail. From the collapse of Atlas as a state and a kingdom, the death of Ozpin's successor named Oscar Pine, all the way to what Qrow would describe as the final Battle of Beacon.

A desperate last charge with what was left of mankind's combined military assets, huntsmen, and even civilians who'd never held weapons their lives. Every new detail revealed just how beyond hopeless and horrifyingly bleak the situation had become. As the account went on, Glynda expressed open horror, Qrow's eyes took on a detached glazed look and his tone grew distant as if numb.

Hearing how Humanity made its last stand filled Ozpin with twin feelings of sorrow and pride. Sorrow at the loss, and pride in knowing that in such a time everyone had come together to fight for the world they believed in.

"Exactly how did this all start?" Ozpin inquired gently. "What was the turning point that allowed the situation to progress to that point?"

Qrow drew in a shuddering breath. "The Kingdoms were gone. Completely destroyed. The relics were taken too. Vale got screwed over first - that bitch, Cinder, framed my -"

Ozpin remained quiet while Qrow cut himself off with another deep breath clearly trying to force away a bad memory. He calmed his anger down, dabbed a thumb under his eye and began again. "One of Salem's agents staged an assault during the Vytal festival Tournament, then used an already unstable Fall Maiden Candidate to essentially commit murder. Broadcast that to the world? You can imagine the Grimm starting to see Vale's citizens as a tasty lookin' buffet."

In that second, the entire room turned cold. A horrendous aura of silent rage filled the space, radiating from the headmaster.

"She dare touch my students..." His voice was arsenic with an edge that promised a swift death to those that crossed him, his fingers clutched around the coffee mug so tightly the ceramic cracked. Thankfully, there was no coffee in there to clean up.

"What happened after that?" Glynda prompted, finally regaining her voice though not her composure.

Taking another calming breath, Qrow continued. "They managed to hack some high class Atlas tech, got it to turn against the Huntsmen, including Glynda and I. They recorded the chaos then trashed the CCT with the Harbinger Sunion."

Ozpin watched Qrow point to the south east window, where the outlines of Mountain Glenn could be spotted in the horizon. Slumbering inside that mountain was a monstrous Dragon Grimm. The thought of it awakening was not a comforting one.

"About ten months later, war was officially declared between the Kingdoms while agents snuck their way into Haven and Atlas." Qrow stared down at his empty mug, "Vacuo is, well, Vacuo but in the end, things took a turn for the worse… There's a hell of a lot more to that, but I think you get the gist of what I came from."

"I do." Ozpin said, his tone approaching his normal unflappable patience.

"Glynda, James and I found out about the Nexus, uh, gateway, whatever the hell you want to call it."

"The Rift of Prometheus." Ozpin supplied and the young man nodded.

"Our original plan was for all three of us to find the damn thing, but when the situation with his knights grew worse, Ironwood broke off to reinforce them. Then Glynda," Qrow paused and glanced over to young Glynda. Now she'd been called by name, she looked only mildly unnerved. A ghost of what she must half felt under her usual stoic mask.

A haunted look passing over Qrow's features. "You died by Salem's hand. You spent the last minutes of your life trying to buy me time to open the Rift."

Ozpin watched a sorrowful shadow pass over the young boy's features. "In the end, it was just me. Everyone else was gone. Heh - what can I say, it's just my luck," he muttered bitterly to himself. "Then Salem came for me, destroyed my scythe, banged me up pretty damned badly. It took ungodly amounts of dust, but I'd managed to use some potent illusion dust to provoke her into sacrificing me on the Rift's alter. Next thing I know, I'm waking up outside the kingdoms in my old tribe and I'm a teenager again."

Ozpin's features lit with sympathy and sadness. "You've met with quite the terrible fate, haven't you?"

Qrow scoffed. "Kinda underselling it a bit there, Oz."

Silent for a minute, Ozpin contemplated the information. It was beyond troubling. "Where does Leo factor into this?"

A cold murderous look replaced the sorrow and his grip on the mug tightened, trembling slightly. Qrow closed his eyes after a moment, clearly willing himself to be calm. His tone was a controlled fury. "Leo's a turncoat."

"What?!" Glynda gasped in disbelief. "That's not possible."

Qrow waved a hand. "I don't know how, hell, I don't even know  _when_  it happens. But Leo betrays us, he started by letting Cinder Fall's crew infiltrate Beacon during the Vytal festival to set off their scheme, and then he sold out every Huntsmen and Huntress in Mistral. Offered them up like lambs to the slaughter, and because of that a Relic was nearly stole thanks to the Spring Maiden of the time - and later had to be taken from the vault thanks to the compromised security... Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if he gave Cinder's group information on where to find the previous Fall Maiden either."

"... if I may make a personal observation, you appear to be taking this a bit personally." Ozpin noted, though he couldn't hide the sadness and despair in his tone either.

A steady anger in his tone as Qrow spoke. "Thanks to Leo's influence; my niece was framed and later lost her arm. A whole kingdom collapsed. And a  _lot_  of those Huntsmen were good friends of mine. Including the Fall Maiden, Amber, who was my charge. Not to mention, the Spring Maiden in question who sold everyone out including her  _own daughter_? Was my selfish  _bitch_  of a twin sister." It was a miracle the young man wasn't foaming at the mouth in a rage. "So, yes, I'm  _still_  taking it pretty godsdamned personally, Oz."

Ozpin nodded his understanding. "I see."

"Hold on, your sister is the Spring Maiden?" Glynda cut in quickly. "Then, we need to guard her, she needs to be trained to use her powers. And -"

Like a switch had been flipped, the anger dissipated with the change in subject. Anger turned to confusion as Qrow focused on Glynda. "Whoa, hang on. The New Spring Maiden hasn't appeared yet?"

"Should she have?"

"Yeah, in Vacuo. She should be at Shade." Qrow explained, looking between Ozpin and Glynda. "I promise you, my sister wasn't a Maiden at any point when she was a member of STRQ, she only gained the power after she left our team years later. Headmistress Lamar hasn't reported the new Spring yet?"

"I've heard nothing from Vacuo." Glynda answered the unanswered question when Ozpin glanced at her.

"I've regrettably been out of contact, so I've heard nothing about this either." Ozpin answered, stroking his chin in thought. "Do you have a name? Perhaps we can cross-check against her student records."

"Uh," Qrow hesitated, brow furrowing with a searching expression. "Ellen Langenberg, I think..."

"Glynda, would you collaborate with Sylvia and look into this? Perhaps her powers simply haven't manifested yet."

"Of course." Glynda nodded once and strode towards the elevator to carry out her task.

"You seem as if you'd like to tell me something else." Ozpin rose from his seat and circled the desk with the broken mug in hand then set it down on the small table with the rest of the coffee set.

"To be honest with you, part of me is still wondering if this isn't some twisted interrogation scheme by Salem to drag information out of me." Qrow confessed with a nonchalant shrug.

"I must admit we are in complete agreement on that matter. However, if you truly were in line with the Queen, I doubt you'd be willing to relinquish this information freely."

Qrow opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. "Ya got me there. I'll be upfront and say I do have a condition for the rest of my intel. Two actually: but it's nothing to do with Salem. It's a more… personal matter regarding certain parties."

"I see," Ozpin pushed his spectacles further up his nose. "It wouldn't happen to have anything to do with a certain bandit clan roaming the borders of Anima?"

Qrow shrugged vaguely. "In a way… yes. But not in the way you're probably thinking. I'd like access to Beacon's archives, all of them from the last twenty to twenty five years. I'm looking for an Ex-member of the Branwen tribe. A woman named Eryr. I'm not sure if she became a Huntress or a renegade, but something  _has_  to be in there."

Ozpin raised an eyebrow and returned to his desk. "And may I ask why?"

"Because I know Eryr Branwen's a seer. And I don't need to point out how much of an advantage it is to have a semblance like that on our side. More to the point, I'm more confident than ever that she isn't dead." Qrow explained. "I figure if I could get a look at the Archives, I might be able to figure out who she may  _still_  be in contact with and who could lead me to her."

Ozpin rested his chin on his folded hands. "And you expect her to simply drop whatever she's doing and come because you asked politely?"

"Naive as this sounds, I'd like to think that if its her own  _son_  asking for the favour then she'll oblige… But given my experience with mothers named 'Branwen', I doubt I'll get anywhere." Qrow slouched back in his chair, playing with the emptied mug in his hand. "Still, it's worth a try."

Ozpin considered his options carefully before giving a nod. "As it so happens, I'm searching for another woman, Fenix Grimnir. Like Eryr, she's a Seer. Perhaps finding one may lead you to the other."

"Fenix Grimnir..." Qrow repeated. "I've heard the name before. She was one of your spies, wasn't she?"

"She was indeed. Needless to say, we've parted ways. For the most part I've left her to her own devices, but if what you say is true - and I have no doubt that it is, then I must call upon any Huntsmen or Huntress I can to aid in this war." Ozpin sighed quietly, then continued. "Unfortunately, that means I have to rely on you too, even after you've already sacrificed and suffered so much."

Qrow just crossed his arms and shrugged.

"You'll have your archive access, and as you are officially on academic suspension, your absence won't be questioned by your peers. You'll have the freedom to follow this for the next three weeks. After that, I'm afraid the task will become a great deal more difficult."

"Get it done fast and right. Same as always." Qrow agreed climbing to his feet and placing the mug down on the desk. "I'll keep in touch and report back anything I find on either front. And I'll look into this Fenix woman as well."

"I believe that would be best." Ozpin agreed. "But for now, perhaps its best if you head back to the dorms and rest. Even if its unnecessary, I'm certain your teammates are rather anxious to hear about the results of today's inquiry with the Forrest family. And I have no illusions that what you shared tonight was extraordinarily difficult. Take tonight for your team, you can begin your research tomorrow."

"Yeah." Qrow said simply, turning to head towards the elevator. He paused and half turned back. "For the record? It's good to have you back, old man."


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 11  
**

Raven thought for sure she was going to go insane.

In fact she was certain of it, if things continued to be as incessantly boring and repetitive as they were these past weeks. Beacon Academy was most definitely  _not_  what Raven was expecting. Worst of all, she couldn't tell if she was beginning to see it as more trouble than it was worth, or if she was actually  _enjoying_  herself.

Hours upon hours of droning lectures hosted by tedious old men and women could only be endured for so long, and endlessly they seemed to carry on about all manner of subjects with no rhyme or reason. And more importantly, no connections to fighting whatsoever.

She couldn't even begin to fathom why a school that advertised itself as a combat academy would care so much about things like 'arts', 'literature' or political science. The idea of having time for such things, beyond the basic need and will to survive was an absolutely alien concept to comprehend, and completely at odds with her own internal logic and reasoning.

And the rules. Goddess preserve her, there were so many  _damned_  rules.

It seemed like Raven couldn't take two steps without somehow breaking some idiotic code of conduct or causing some minor infraction. Like the other day, she's broken another student's nose after he spent most of the morning session annoying her. And ended up spending that entire afternoon period forced into picking up trash. A humiliating experience of 'community service' that led to other nastier students laughing at her.

Raven hated every second of that humiliation. If it had been the tribe, the whole thing would have been laughed off and she'd been left alone. But here, she was punished for doing what she'd always done in response to such behaviour.

Unless everyone attending really did buy into the whole 'defenders of humanity' shtick.

She knew that at least Taiyang did. He'd often wax and boast during meal times about the mild feats he'd performed for his family back home. Often inflating his retelling of slaying his first Ursa when he was thirteen with a prototype version of his knuckles bombs. He'd frequently show off during combat trials as well, only to be easily upstaged by nearly every other opponent he faced, too distracted by his audience to actually give his best effort. Raven would have been ashamed to suffer such defeats so often, but was completely confounded by how easily he laughed them off. Then, there was the ways he would cajole Summer and Qrow into his antics. And somehow, he'd managed to wrangle her into his little machinations too.

Raven couldn't deny something oddly endearing and endlessly infuriating about him. She'd rather tongue a King Taijitu before admitting it out loud though.

But even that minor endearment was heavily outweighed by an intense jealousy that she'd been nursing since initiation. At its core was her own twin brother.

Qrow had fallen so easily into the dynamic between Taiyang and Summer. From the very first day, he'd been joking around with them, joining in on their fun and laughing harder and louder than she'd ever heard in their lifetimes.

Yes, he'd always looked for a way out when they were in the tribe, and when she was a little girl, Raven had her own...  _minute_  desire to leave before she learned to accept the order of things. But the fact that Qrow slipped into the rank and file so easily, while she was struggling to make it through a day without pissing someone off, filled her with a bitter resentment. Not helped by the fact he seemed to brush her off whenever she tried to demand they investigate more into Eryr Branwen. Some part of her was starting to believe that Qrow was lying to her about Eryr. To use it as an excuse to keep them from returning to the tribe and turn against Morrigan. But, another part couldn't help agreeing with him. There were serious discrepancies in how they were treated if they truly  _were_  Morrigan's children...

Still, there were undeniable benefits to the school.

It was... comforting, waking up in the same bed every day without having to breakdown camp and leave the area to avoid the looming threat of the Grimm. And during meal times, no one once question her going back for second or third helpings, when back at the Tribe she was lucky to get through her first serving before people were already trying to steal food off her plate.

In fact, Summer of all people challenged her to a waffle eating contest just the other day. Raven declined in her usual blunt way, but Summer wasn't deterred and the spirit of competition remained even as Raven tried to ignore her. And she found herself quickly absorbed into the challenge with no other apparent goal than who could give themselves the bigger stomachache. Begrudgingly, Raven had to admit it was a little fun, even though the alarm bell went off and ended the not-competition in a disappointing draw.

Both teenagers were sickly for the rest of the day, and it made Raven absolutely useless during the duelling practice. She expected harsh retribution for her uselessness and inability to fight, but before Raven could stop her out of that fear, Summer gently explained to the instructor that they weren't feeling well because of some imagined illness.

And no punishment came.

Instead the professor laughed it off and told them both to take it easy for the afternoon, wishing them both speedy recovery. She couldn't hide the dumbfounded shock at how quickly and easily it was dismissed. In the tribe, she would have been thoroughly punished for any admission of weakness and she expected much the same here, but nothing further was made of it.

It was the most bizarre feeling.

There were also sessions about weapon forging, care and maintenance and the like, which managed to garner the majority of her attention. Techniques and equipment filled the workshops, the likes of which Raven had never seen before or dared to dream off. And they were cutting edge compared to the lesser simpler forges the tribe had raided over the years. But the appeal of such things would wane then vanish completely thanks to the abundance of procedures and metaphorical hoops the professors would send the students through.

It was school policy they explained, that each and every student had to participate in a lengthy competency quiz. Basic safety and hazard identification scenarios, where the students had to correctly assess the danger level of accident scenarios, and explain how to safely contain and remedy the situation. Raven failed that test twice, which was quite the bruise to her already smarting ego.

The more she reflected on her brief experiences so far at Beacon, the more contradictory it seemed against her own internalised logic.

Raven had a spare period and chose to spend it in the library, glaring at the text books splayed before her and her pen's nib pressed against the blank sheets in front of her, staining the page as she wracked her brain trying to comprehend precisely what the question was asking. And more over wondering exactly how this was supposed to make her better at fighting. She tapped her pen against the pages, lips pursed tightly in a line as her frustration reached its peak and she tossed the thing down with a sound of disgust.

"Do you want some help?" Taiyang offered, peering over her shoulder.

Raven spun around, admonishing herself for not sensing another's presence sooner. If he'd been an enemy, she'd be dead. She grumbled and turned back to her blank page. "Don't you have better things do to? Like flashing your legs to the rest of the school?"

To her surprise and mild confusion, Taiyang laughed wholeheartedly at the barb. "Yeah. Yeah, that was embarrassing. Thought I'd try to trip your brother up, but he sure turned that joke around on me, huh?"

Raven tossed him another glance before plucking the pen off the desk and randomly scribbling. "What do you want?"

Taiyang shrugged, pulling out a seat across from her and sitting down. "Nothin' much. Was just curious to see what you were doing. So... what  _are_  you doing?"

"Wondering what in hell the point is about this stupid homework essay?" She snapped curtly, shooting him a look.

"Maybe you can tell me  _exactly_  why I'm supposed to care about how well I do in history or literature, when they both have exactly nothing to do with fighting. AKA. the  _only_  damned reason I'm here." Raven demanded, leaning back.

Taiyang leaned back against his own chair with a ponderous look. "You can't live your entire life on the battlefield."

"I can damn well try."

Taiyang rested his arms on the table, tapping a nonsensical beat with his fingers. "Ya know, a wise man once told me; if you take life too seriously, it ceases to be funny."

"Are you saying I should act like a pompous show-boating arse like you?" Raven shot back and Taiyang raised his hands in defensive, wearing his easy-going smile.

"I only do that to get other people to laugh."

Raven pointed an accusatory finger at him. "You know they're laughing  _at_  you, not  _with_  you, right?"

"So?" He shrugged. "They still laugh."

Raven closed her mouth and looked at him skeptically, finding that she wasn't quite sure how to respond to that. He didn't care if he humiliated himself in front of everyone? Seriously? How could he  _live_  like that?

He leaned forward, peering at her textbooks and the question. Raven huffed and tossed her pen aside again, slamming the books shut. "Are you sure there isn't anything you like doing outside of fighting, weapons and all that?"

Raven gave him a pointed look before glancing away, her hand propped up her chin and her cheeks flushing with a touch of embarrassment. "... I like looking at the sky. The stars and all that crap." She shot him a glare. "Go ahead, laugh now."

"Why?" Taiyang asked perplexed. "Stargazing's totally a legit interest. You could actually turn that into a full-blown hobby if you wanted to."

"And why do you care?" Raven demanded again.

"Cause we're teammates. Its only natural we should take an interest in each other. Really, nothing more to it than that..." Taiyang offered simply, then added an amendment under his breath. "And 'cause you're clearly struggling and I wanted to help."

"Oh yeah?" Raven scoffed. "And exactly  _when_  did I ask for it?"

Taiyang frowned. "You don't  _have_  to ask. That's kinda the whole point of being on a team. You don't have to keep taking things out by yourself, and whatever you can't take on your own, you can lean on your teammates to help pick up the slack."

Raven remained silent and crossed her arms with a bitter scowl.

"And you clearly haven't been in a..." He paused, searching for the correct word. " _Academic_  environment before, so its bound to be pretty jarring to try and figure out how everything fits together. All those pesky little rules and examinations. Its damned overwhelming if you're not used to it."

Raven narrowed her eyes skeptically at him, unwilling to admit he was spot on in his deduction then made a sound of disgust. "Well my  _brother_  has certainly found his element," she noted bitterly, glancing aside. "Back home in our tribe, he was always reading whatever stupid books he could get his hands on. Now he's over the moon cause he gets to show off all that crap he's read."

"Your tribe?" Taiyang echoed, politely curious. "So, you guys really  _are_  nomads, huh?"

"That's..." Raven went to answer but pursed her lips in thought. "... one way to put it, I guess."

"Wow, must have been hard." Taiyang said after a moment. "I mean, I'm from a boarder village between Vacuo and Vale. Its a pretty decked out place, but even we got some Grimm attacks bad enough we nearly had to abandon the site. Can't imagine actually  _living_  in the wilderness all my life..."

Raven slumped back in her chair. "Its a hard life." She admitted after a moment. "I... sometimes, I wake up here and half expect someone barking at me to pack my shit cause we're moving..."

"Thankfully, you don't have to deal with that here." Taiyang declared confidently, then smiled and gestures between the two of them. "See, we're making progress and getting to know each other. Isn't this great?"

Raven rolled her eyes and shook her head in begrudging amusement. "You're a bit of a persistent ass, aren't you?"

"Guilty as charged." Taiyang shrugged, smirking. "So, what were you working on before I got here?"

Raven's amusement vanished in an instant, as did her budding good mood as she slammed more books closed and stacked them away. "Nothing."

"Remember what we were just saying?" Taiyang prompted teasingly. "I know that's this week's homework you got there, so spill it."

Raven huffed, her pride a bitter pill to swallow as she admitted her problem in embarrassment. "I don't get what the question's asking..."

"Oh yeah? We can fix that." Taiyang said, moving to the chair adjacent to Raven's and pulling out his own stationary. She scowled.

Raven felt her anger and her annoyance rise. "That  _wasn't_  an invitation to help me, you ass! I'll figure it out on my own."

"Well you're gonna get it." He declared, retrieving his own notepad from his carry bag and glancing at the question. "Did you not hear a thing I said literally five minutes ago? You don't have to do everything by yourself, especially if its something like this. Hell, the question even says 'Discuss and analysis  _as a group_ '." He indicated the section with his finger.

Raven crossed her arms, refusing to meet his gaze.

"So, stop being a stubborn ass and lets see if we can figure this one out together, okay?"

"Ugh..." Raven groaned. "Kinda jealous that brother doesn't have to deal with this crap for another couple weeks..."

Taiyang stared at her, eyebrow raised. "You  _do_  realise that he's actually being  _punished_  right now... right? Its not like suspension's a holiday; he's running around school doing errands for professors, not sleeping on the job. And after that's all done, he's gotta catch up on  _everything_  he's missed."

Raven sympathetically winced at the thought. "Maybe so, but he doesn't have to care about it now."

Taiyang nodded. "Okay, yeah, I'll have to give you that one."

Raven sighed. "And where's Summer in all of this?"

"Last I heard, back in the dorm." Taiyang supplied. "I overheard her on the line with her dad. Apparently, they had plans to go to the city on the weekend but his boss is town and he'll be busy. So she's... kinda, ya know, moping."

"And by moping, you mean 'baking'."

"Yep."

"Well, that's something to look forward to at least..." Raven levelled a half-lidded look at him. "So, I'm guessing that telling you to piss off won't get me anywhere."

"Nope." He said, combing through the stacked books until he found the right one. "Okay, that's about the great war, so you'll want... this one."

He pulled out a large navy blue tome and opened it between them, scribbling down some notes that looked like a book title and page number. Raven groaned once more, pulling her own blank page up and retrieving her pen. "Fine, lets get this over with..."


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 12  
**

Qrow's skin burned as if standing over a raging inferno.

He was in the Kingdom of Atlas. All around him, buildings were alight with red and yellow flames. Perimeter security was overrun, a far more complicated variant of the same virus that overran the Atlas mechs in Vale had once again turned Atlesian Knights against their human masters. Their weapons trained on the civilian populations, indiscriminately mowing down any that stood in their path with merciless mechanical precision while Grimm finished them off.

Screams filled his ears, ash clogged his lungs and the stench of charcoal, burning decay and expended dust shells filled his nostrils. The very air felt like breathing in fire. Ghostly voices whispered in his ear, demanded his attention. He'd recognsied them as people he knew - people he'd lost, but Qrow couldn't find their source.

"Qrow..." Someone called his name.

He blinked and the vision changed. Now looking down at Oscar Pine bravely clutching Ozpin's cane in an offensive posture despite the clear fear in his eyes. Qrow's own hand squeezed the boy's shoulder, offering a reassurance Qrow couldn't muster for himself. Then, like a pitch black wraith, Salem swooped in and practically cleaved the poor boy in half, slipping back into the shadows just as quickly with the Relic of Knowledge clutched in her death grip.

"Qrow!" the voice called again, full of desperation and panic.

He blinked again. Finding himself lying in one of those damn metal and glass pods linked to a prototype version of the aura transfer devices, a barely alive Oscar in the other, with a heavily dishevelled and bleeding James Ironwood observing sombrely as he typed commands into a console.

Next came his raw screams reverberating off the interior, the echo intensifying a hundred fold in the closed confines. A greenish coloured light blurred and mixed with red. His nerve endings felt like they were being frayed, agony the likes of he'd never experienced or ever imagined possible burned through him like lava pouring down his spine.

"QROW!"

The image changed one final time. With it came more searing pain around his abdomen, right eye and lower forearm. He knew he wouldn't find his hand if he looked, and he felt even more dull aches and stabbing pains across his entire body. Pains that were doubtlessly broken bones. The Grimm Queen loomed above him with the most sickeningly sweet smile on her pale lips and her jagged bone-like sword poised to strike. The sword lunged forward towards his skull and -

_**THUNK!** _

Qrow's eyes shot open with a fearful gasp and were greeted by a dark plastic container inches from his face, his heart thundering painfully against the wall of his chest. Sweat dotted his brow and he panted, his breaths coming out in great gasping heaves.

"Nightmare?" The familiar caustic voice of his twin instantly soured his mood as Qrow pushed himself upright. "You never struck me as the type, big brother."

She leaned in, hand on her hip with a teasing grin and spoke with a babying tone. "Aw, did the big bad dweams fwighten wittle old you? How pathetic."

Raven laughed. "You look like a scared little boy."

"There's nothing wrong with fear, Raven." Qrow glowered at her, holding his right hand as it trembled from phantom pain and adrenaline in equal measure.

They were in the Beacon Archive room, a musky smelling chamber lit only by a single window, where rows upon rows of shelves were stacked from floor to ceiling with archive boxes. Towards the rear end of the room was a single old computer terminal and an ancient looking scan-printer attached to it. Qrow sat at a nondescript desk in the middle of the room, where he had several manilla folders open in front of him. Each had a name printed on the tab and were in various states of decay from age.

"... don't you have class?" Qrow managed to sound somewhere near calm, willing his heartbeat to a more relaxed pace.

"Its the weekend."

"Don't you have homework?"

"Ugh. Yes  _Daaaaad_." Raven drawled sarcastically, rolling her eyes with a noise of disgust as she paced back and forth. "If there's one thing that'll drive me insane about this school, its all the damned homework."

The older Branwen twin rubbed his eyes with a groan. "Yeah, well shut up and do it. You never know, you might learn something interesting."

"Yeah, like how many historical idiots made stupid tactical blunders during the wars." Raven waved a hand dismissively.

"I'd would've thought war history would be right up your alley." Qrow propped his cheek on his fist, feeling fatigue set in as he tapped a rhythm on the plastic container with his spare hand. "' _Those who don't learn from the past_ ' and that whole cliche."

"Eh." Raven dismissed with a noncommittal sound. "The history is fine. Having to write a bajillion page long essay every other day  _isn't_."

"Hmm. So, what's this?" Qrow asked, picking up the transparent plastic container and inspecting the contents. It was warm to the touch and when he pried off the lid he was nearly overwhelmed by the incredibly strong scent.

"Summer made some spicy curry or some other thing. Pretty sure she'd said it was beef, but  _I_  sure as hell couldn't tell. Its almost completely inedible." Raven shuddered in revulsion. "Too damned spicy for me. I don't have her taste buds of steel."

Qrow rolled his eyes with a wry smirk, mixing the curry and rice together inside the container with the fork provided. "Oh harden up, Princess. I'm sure its not  _that_  bad."

Confidently, he took a bite then paused for a long moment, methodically chewing...

Yeah. It  _definitely_  cleared the sinuses.

"Whew! Okay. Yeah you've got a point. That's really hot." He admitted, swallowing hard. "Gez, shortstack. More rice, less spice next time."

"See, what did I say? Total une- you're  _still_  eating it?" Raven stared at him, flabbergasted.

"Heck yeah. Free food." Qrow shrugged, shovelling more into his mouth.

"Yeah, of course." Raven scoffed. "Stuffing your face seems to be some sort of new hobby you've picked up since we arrived here. Better be careful, you might start getting a flabby gut if you keep it up."

Qrow paused in his lunch and a shadow passed over his features for the briefest of moment before he resumed his meal.

Raven was right. During meal times, Qrow had become something of a glutton, overindulging in food and drink. In the grand scheme of things, it would have been rather uncharacteristic of him. Not to mention, he'd received his fair share of teasing from Summer and Tai regarding his excessive eating as well. But none of them knew the truth of what he'd been through. None of them experienced the atrocious impoverished conditions his final days were in the previous timeline.

Food was scarce back then, even when returning to basics and hunting wild game. What little they had was severely rationed. And in those last days, Qrow had witnessed just as many lives lost to starvation than to the Grimm. He'd nearly joined those ranks himself at the worst points.

Not to mention, that for three hours each night, he was putting himself through his paces. Pushing himself beyond his limits and forcing his teenaged body to develop and adapt to the muscle memory of his adult self. He ate to excess both to fuel his rigorous training regime and... well, he supposed he was making up for lost time.

Still, he doubted there'd be a point where he could ever explain that particular hell to them any time soon, or the new found culinary obsession that it spawned.

Instead, he'd brush it off as a joke. "Hi Pot, name's kettle. You're black."

Polishing off the serving, Qrow replaced the fork and lid and placed it to the side, wishing to whatever gods were listening that he had a tall glass of milk to help ease the burning sensation the scorching hot curry left behind.

"Pfft. As if I care. Its all going going where it matters most, anyway." Raven declared proudly, deliberately crossing her arms under her ample bosom.

"Ugh..." Qrow shuddered in disgust. "That's an image I  _don't_  need in my head, thank you very much."

"So what'd you find?" Raven demanded, returning to business. "You said you needed access to the Beacon archives to find out more information on our 'mother'. So spill it already."

Qrow spun around the folder next to his left hand and pushed it across the table. Printed in black ink on the tab was 'Branwen. E'. He watched Raven open it, then her brow furrowed as if not sure what to make of the contents. "So, she  _was_  a Huntress?"

"Seems like that." Qrow agreed, cupping his hands behind his head and leaning back in his chair. "Passed the entrance exam with flying colours, granted leadership of a team, graduated with honours. Pretty much validictorian if her theory scores hadn't sucked."

Raven tapped the file with the knuckles, her tone full of contempt. "It also says here she died thirteen years ago. Already your 'Eryr is alive' theory is bullshit."

"You believe everything you read?" Qrow asked coyly.

"Fine. Then how does this help us find Eryr?  _If_  she's still alive." Raven asked, tossing the folder back on the table.

"It doesn't. Not directly. But it helps us find people who might know where she is. Take a look again." Qrow instructed, Raven gave him a look. He jerked his head towards the folder and she scoffed to read once more.

After a moment, she shot an irritated glare his way. "And exactly  _what_  am I looking for?"

"Two things." Qrow rose and circled around, pointing out the important details listed in the middle section of the text. "First: Her team. BLHT (Blight)."

"BLHT? Its been years. And Huntsmen don't exactly live long and charmed lives. How can you be sure that any of them are still alive?" Raven inquired.

"I couldn't. But I did look into it, and all of them are still around and kicking as a matter of fact." Qrow explained, circling back and placing his hand on three folders stacked together on the corner of the desk. From top to bottom, they were labelled in the same manner as Eryr's; Altius. L, Volt. H and Teale. C. "Unfortunately, they're scattered. One's disavowed and expelled from the Huntsmen Guild, and when I cross-referenced the last two names against the CCT's database, one's in Mistral right now working a gig, and the last is on personal leave."

"How did you know how to do that?" Raven looked at him, bewildered.

Qrow shrugged. "I had to learn pretty quickly. First few days of my suspension, I was stuck doing menial jobs in the library and one of the librarians gave me a crash course in CCT access. Needed it for one of the work tasks she assigned me."

Raven took this explanation without further comment, refocusing on the folder before them. "Okay. Then that means they're out of the question. Where does that leave us?"

"Her official sponsor." Qrow reached across the table and tapped another section of the biography. Raven leaned in to read. "Apparently before the rules were changed; people with criminal records, leanings or ties, needed an official letter of reference from a Huntsmen or some law enforcement to apply for Beacon Academy. And this guy was hers."

"G. Grimnir... who's G. Grimnir?"

"I did a bit of digging around. First name's Gareth. He was a Huntsman too." Qrow produced another similarly labelled file. This one looked far more aged than the rest. He'd opened it to reveal its contents then slid it across next to Eryr's folder. "He died about thirteen years ago too, about three or four months before Eryr supposedly."

"Not suspicious at all." Raven muttered. "The timing I mean. First her sponsor, then she 'dies' a few months later and chooses to live in hiding?"

Qrow looked up. "I don't think Eryr murdered him if that's what you're thinking."

"One; get out of my head. Two; I didn't ask for your opinion." Raven told him sternly and Qrow chuckled.

"Not my fault you're just too easy to predict." He joked before turning serious once more. "I'll grant you the timing doesn't look fantastic. But there's obviously a story there. And we can speculate all day, but that doesn't get us any closer to the truth, now does it?"

"Are you saying that he's alive too?" Raven intoned sarcastically.

"No." Qrow shook his head.

"Oh thank the goddess." Raven breathed in relief. "Cause if you said 'yes', then that trick is going to get real old real soon."

Qrow allowed himself a private smirk before shaking his head and continuing. "According to this, Gareth's dead and buried in a local Vale graveyard. But his younger brother is still alive and lives in Vale. He's a mortician."

Raven looked up at him and frowned, silently asked for him to elaborate. "He prepares funerals."

"Oh, like an undertaker?"

"Yeah, actually. Same profession, different name."

Raven straightened her back and started pacing again. "But, _why_  would this guy sponsor Eryr to become a Huntress. I'm just skimming, but he looks squeaky clean. Disgustingly so. It doesn't make any sense why he'd suddenly up and give a random Anima bandit that kind of favour?"

Qrow shrugged, offering his best hypothesis. "Maybe he was coerced to do so because the Tribe wanted Eryr to pull the same trick Morrigan wanted us to pull? Maybe he saw something redeemable in her and convinced her to abandoned the tribe?"

"Or maybe," Raven interjected, anger simmering under the tone. "Eryr abandoned the Tribe - and us - to go play Huntress?"

Qrow hummed, crossing his arms in thought. "No. I don't think that's what happened. It doesn't match the timeline either."

"Timeline?" Raven inquired.

"Yeah." Qrow answered. "We're both seventeen. She died thirteen years ago, so that makes us four when it happened. But if that date of birth is right and assuming she graduated at twenty-one like everyone else, her 'death' was recorded when she was twenty-eight at most. Matching that up with our ages, we were born three or four years  _after_  she graduated."

Raven took the information on board and was clearly struggling with it. "That still doesn't discount the idea that she may have returned to the tribe later and ditched us there."

"No it doesn't, but her mission records do. She was in Mistral maybe twice during that period." Qrow said, pointing to the dates. Both were no more than a week at most. "And she was with her team on those missions. I'd like to hope that at least  _one_  of them would object to ditching two toddlers with a roaming band of merciless killers."

Raven crossed her arms. "Until recently, you thought of them as your family. You could at least give them  _some_  respect."

"The day they earn it. Just because they raised us doesn't mean they're anything  _close_  to what I consider 'family'." Qrow stated coldly then straightened up. "Either way, if we find this Grimnir guy, he might lead us to Eryr. Or he might be willing to point us in the right direction of someone who can."

Raven scoffed and her brow furrowed. "Fine. We'll search for him. What's his name?"

Qrow pointed to the biographic data in Gareth's file. "Taliesin. His address current address is listed as well. Its on the outskirts of Vale's City."

"Fine. Lets go then." Raven declared, stalking towards the exit. "We'll get answers one way or another and end this stupid thing once and for all."

"I have a question for you." Qrow said after a moment, closing all the files and stacking them neatly together.

"And what's that?" Raven demanded.

"If we find Eryr and she  _is_  our mother, what if you don't like what she has to say for herself?"

It was a question he had for himself if he was honest.

Raven seemed caught off guard by his frankness and her gaze lowered to the ground. " _Assuming_  we find her,  _assuming_  she's still alive, and  _assuming_  she gives a damn enough to give us the time of day? The only way we'll find out is if we find her."

A long tense moment of silence passed between the twins before Qrow gave a shallow nod. "Okay. But before we do that, I'm gonna go drink a tall glass of milk and brush my teeth because - Holy  _shit,_  Summer needs to ease up on that chilli."

Raven snickered meanly as he all but sprinted towards the door, calling after him. "What was it you said earlier? 'harden up, Princess'?"

"Shaddup!"


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 13  
**

One of the many perks of Beacon's armoury was a broad range of training equipment that far exceeded anything in Summer's home village.

Fweet! Fweet! Fweet!

Three arrows loosed from Summer's bow and three arrows made their mark in the same bulls eye ten metres down the lane. Typically, her standard arrowheads contained a tiny glass cylinder of dust that broke upon impact, detonating in a small explosion of whatever elemental property the dust presented. But for trial purposes, she removed the shells. The dust cylinders were arranged in a neat colourful grid on the workbench to her right, along with her maintenance kit and the shredded fragments of a long, frayed wire.

The bowstring had snapped last night when Summer concluded her evening practice and she spent the better part of the morning carefully threading a new wire through the weapon assembly. Had  _Silent Briar_  been a simple bow, the string would have been less of an issue to replace. Unfortunately, it wasn't. Given the hybrid nature of her weapon as a high impact sniper rifle and recurve bow, Summer had to half disassemble the entire frame. It took her over two hours using both tweezers and a canister of compressed air to dislodge the frayed bits of string left inside, then painstakingly examine each component for the slightest hint of damage.

Summer hefted her weapon, giving it an appraising look before retrieving a flat head screw driver and adjusting a component in the bow arms. Knocking one final arrow, she drew the string back and released.

FWEET!

The arrow shot through the air and hit the target dead centre with a more satisfying impact.

"That's better." She hummed to herself, pleased with the new configuration.

"I know I've said it before, but you're a hell of a shoot!" Tai complimented, absently tinkering with a spare component.

"Gah! Tai where did you come from!?" Summer squeaked practically leaping out of her skin. The petite huntress spun on her heel to face her teammate, cheeks flushed in embarrassment over how easily she was caught off guard.

"Sorry!" Taiyang laughed, grinning apologetically with his hands raised. "Don't shoot, I'm a friendly."

Summer's lips pulled into a pout, collapsing the bow back into its rifle form and setting it on the bench before stalking down range to retrieve her arrows.

"Ya know, its not altogether a very wise move to sneak up on a girl when she's handling heavy caliber weaponry." She stated when she returned.

"I wasn't even sneaking! I was just walking." Taiyang leaned against the workbench and absently fiddling with one of the dust cylinders. "Seriously, you and Rae both, you really need to work on your situational awareness. I wasn't even trying to be stealthy. Besides, what were you expecting me to do? Try to knife you in the back or something?"

"You did yesterday when we were playing Light Spirits." Summer reminded him bluntly.

They'd spent the better part of yesterday evening playing a scroll game in their dorm. It was a gruelling fantasy game with a stylistic take on pre-Great War Knight Orders and famed for an utterly unforgiving learning curve. Unfortunately, Tai seemed to get ahead of that curve far easier than Summer could and she wouldn't deny feeling a tad bitter about it.

"Sum. Okay, first off; that kinda the whole point of the game, if you don't like it then you don't have to play co-op. Second, I'm absolutely  _offended_  at the accusation." Taiyang had his fingers up to represent his points before holding his chest in mock offence. "I don't stab people in the back - I punch them in the face!"

Very quickly, her annoyance evaporated and Summer let out a light carefree laugh. "Yeah, that's a fair point. Knowing you, you probably don't even know  _how_  to handle a sword."

Playing along with a grin, Tai picked up a spare arrow, the sharp head pressed flat against his palm and the white fletching in the air, he waved it around like a child shaking a rattle. "This is a funny looking S-word. Remind me; which end do I use to cut people again?"

Summer shook her head, chuckling as she held her hand out expectantly and Tai gave her back the arrow. "You're funny."

"You could say I  _aim_  to please?"

If Summer rolled her eyes any harder, she was almost certain they would fall out of her skull. "So, what's going on? Is there something you wanted to talk about, or are you just bored and puttering about?"

"Bored and puttering. The twins went to the city, I finished my homework and now I've got nothing to do." He hoisted himself onto the bench, letting his legs swing idle over the edge.

Summer smiled with a shake of her head, carefully inserting the dust cylinders into the arrow heads and replacing them in the aged leather quiver. Absently, she noted she'd likely have to replace it soon. "You  _could_  try reviewing the lecture notes from this last week? Oooor you could try to get ahead of everyone else but looking at the course material?  _Or_  you could jot down a few study notes for our suspended teammate to use for catch up?"

Taiyang scoffed. "I want to be  _entertained,_  not die prematurely of tedium."

Summer gave an expression of mock thought. "That sounds like a personal problem."

"You wound me Summer. I'm wounded. Right here." Taiyang put on a dramatic display of clutching his heart in pain. Summer had spent too much time with him to take it seriously.

"Besides, I think you've got that part down pat." A mischievous glint formed in his cerulean blue eyes. "I've seen all those breakdowns and summaries you've made, I half expect you to write definitions and draw cute little heart flourishes on the pages."

Summer stammered, completely wrong-footed by the comment then shook her head firmly as if to physically rid herself off the light pink blush on her cheeks. "I-I just like being thorough, that's all. There's nothing wrong with that."

"Uh huh." Taiyang smirked crookedly, let his teasing hang.

Summer shot him a dark look, thoroughly unimpressed. "Do you just  _need_  chaos and drama to survive, or are you just really  _that_  bored?"

"I'm that bored, and being a big brother is an art form. If I don't keep my wits sharp, I'll end up getting rusty and I can't have those little brats back home getting the better of me!" Taiyang joked, hoisting himself off the table.

"Well, I don't think there's anything wrong with my study notes." Summer crossed her arms, putting on a dignified air. "I think Qrow would really appreciate it. Especially if he's anything like Raven. Those two don't seem like they were blessed with the most academically inclined upbringing."

"Qrow ain't doing too bad. Then again, he hasn't actually been in classes for the last couple weeks, so we can't really compare. Rae's..." he trailed off before shrugging. "Yeah, she's a stubborn basket case. But what can you do?"

"On that topic, where are our two errant teammates? And why didn't you go to the city with them? Explore a little bit."

"Well..." Taiyang drawled, crossing his arms. "If you've seen one kingdom, you've kinda seen them all. Same old, same old, just got a different coat of paint is all. As for the birds? I  _did_  ask, but they both shot me down. Said they had some personal stuff to take care off. Loved to know why they thought they'd need their weapons though."

"Why are you so surprised? Our weapons are a part of us, we make them as expressions of ourselves. And I  _know_  I feel only half-dressed without mine." Summer joked lightly.

" _Neeeeeeeerd_." Taiyang teased, reaching over to pull Summer's white hood over her head and grinning at her indignant 'Hey!' She shoved him back halfheartedly and lowered the hood again with a glare. "But seriously, they looked like they were on a war march or somethin'. I'm not too sure if its cause they're bein' overly cautious or what..."

"... that's odd." Summer mused, frowning. Habit was all well and good, but were they anticipating some sort of attack during their jaunt into the city? Or more likely, the pair of them were overthinking it, and the twins really were just out for a little exploration.

"Hey, what do you say we-" Any suggestion Summer was going to offer was cut off by the sudden sharp blaring of a dreaded warning siren that echoed throughout the school and into the Kingdom beyond its grounds.

"Alert: Incoming Grimm Attack, threat level six. Please remain came and seek shelter in a timely and orderly fashion. All Huntsmen please report to the southern borderline. Repeat: Alert; Incoming Grimm Attack, threat level six. Please remain calm and seek shelter in a timely and orderly fashion..."

The automated monotone message cycled through the same sequence in time with the warning siren. Summer's heart suddenly thundered painfully in her chest and adrenaline surged through her veins. Without conscious thought, she snatched up the arrow quiver and clipped the belt around her waist. Additional bullet cartridges for the sniper rifle configuration studded the length of the belt.

Taiyang could barely process the message before he'd realised Summer was already striding towards the door. His panic was clear in his tone. "What are you doin- are you seriously going out there?! Its a level six! They're calling for  ** _Pros_**! We're just students!"

"I don't know what I'm doing! I just - I have to do something! What if they need our help?!" Summer snapped back, fear was coiling its gnarled tendrils around her heart but she closed her eyes and steeled herself. This was the job she was training to do after all. "Besides, Qrow and Raven are in the city. If they're anywhere near the invasion points, they'll need our help!"

It took less than a minute for Taiyang to come to grips with his own inner doubts and uncertainties before he made his own decision, rushing to his locker and punching in the six digit access code for his amber yellow knuckle bombs.

"I'm coming too!" He scrambling after her. "We're teammates right? Gotta watch each other's backs, after all."

As they rushed to the docks where already they could see Bullhead dropships assembling and ready to take Huntsmen into the danger zone, both students felt a prang of fear and apprehension at the task ahead. It was strange to think they would be afraid of such a thing. The lot of the Huntsmen was to fight these beasts of enmity wherever they may tread, and initiation literally catapulted them into the thick of Grimm territory. But there was a key difference between invading their territory, and the Grimm invading their sanctuary.

It took no time at all to find familiar Huntsmen among the gathering crowd. It seemed that several older students held the same idea as them, eager to volunteer and do their duty. Some were taken, others were turned away, the task deemed too dangerous for their inexperienced years. But that didn't deter Summer, weaving her way deftly through the crowd until she reached the blonde deputy-headmistress.

"Professor Goodwitch! Please, let us fight!" Summer pleaded, her grip around her weapon stock tightening. "This is our kingdom too, and its our duty to protect it!"

The Deputy-Headmistress sized them both up, noting the hard determination set in their gazes. "We can't allow you to do that. I appreciate your drive, but this attack is simply one we cannot allow novices to undertake. You are needed here with the rest of your-"

"Professor, please. Our two teammates are in the city, they're going to need our help!" Taiyang added his own pleas to the mix.

For a brief second, Professor Goodwitch's features softened before they turned fierce. "Be that as it may, I cannot allow two novices barely into their first term to-"

A stern voice of authority from behind the students cut her off before she could get another word in. "Let them proceed."

Taiyang and Summer spun around to see the Beacon Headmaster approaching them. Ozpin spoke with a note of finality as he approached. His expression unusually grave.

"But, Professor Ozpin-" Professor Goodwitch tried to refute it, but she was cut off once more. This time by a squat woman in a long green dress and brown bodice that seemed akin to something a tavern wench would wear more than a Huntress.

"Two more arms could hardly damage our chances, Glyn." Professor Peach declared, gesturing to the two students with the crystal tip of her staff. "Consider it a practical combat assessment. Worse comes to worst, I'll escort them back to Beacon myself."

"Tamara..." Goodwitch grumbled, casting a subtle glare over her shoulder to her compatriot. Professor Peach shrugged nonchalantly in response. Goodwitch closed her eyes and breathed deeply out of her nose. "Very well, come then. But don't for a second take this lightly."

"Thank you, Professor!" Summer practically leapt onto the Bullhead transport, followed by Taiyang.

"Thanks Professor, we owe you..." Taiyang faced Ozpin but trailed off when he finally took stock of the Headmaster's expression.

"Do not thank me. You have set this challenge for yourselves, and you will have to face those consequences if you fail to meet them. I only hope you understand the magnitude of the risks involved. Stay close to the Huntsmen and do exactly everything as they say." Ozpin stated, backing away as the transport's engines whirred to life. "Good luck."

Professor Goodwitch was the last to board. For a half a minute, she turned to face the headmaster. Summer saw him say something, but the engine sounds drowned whatever words exchanged between them out. Once she was aboard, the transport lifted into the air and sped off to the south sector.

"Me and my damn mouth..." Summer could hear Tai mutter under his breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, I must apologise for my tardiness. I was on holidays then it was my birthday and its been pretty hard to get myself back into the rhythm. I was also trying to figure out a way to give other characters the spotlight and I've been busy re-working the story to better include them.
> 
> Second, Tai - NEVER complain about bored again. Since your boredom led to a Grimm attack!
> 
> Also, yes. By Light Spirits, Summer means Remnant's version of Dark Souls.
> 
> Thanks and regards,
> 
> Aurora313


End file.
